


Reflexes and Riddles

by may_i_have_this_wish



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance, Time Travel, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-04-14 00:56:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 57,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4543992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/may_i_have_this_wish/pseuds/may_i_have_this_wish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alessandra di Angelo is a woman of questionable morality and impressive drive. Her situation in life has given her a unique mission: Should she accept the task, she will travel back to 1942 with one simple goal, to prevent Tom Riddle from becoming Lord Voldemort. There's only one catch...she can't kill him.<br/>(Slow burn time travel fic, a LOT more characters than the ones listed will be included eventually, from both series)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Flight

September 1, 1997

 

Alessandra di Angelo sat curled in her seat, peering out the window of the Hogwarts Express. She was a tall figure, with thick, wavy black hair, olive skin, and piercing golden eyes. Although, the only thing her eyes were currently piercing was a pane of glass.

“Come on, perk up,” Blaise Zabini nudged her, “You’re going to give yourself wrinkles if you keep making that face.” He was sitting between her and the window and his sudden appearance in her field of vision broke her concentration. 

She chuckled, “The only thing that’s going to give me wrinkles is you,” she nudged his shoulder back, “I can’t believe you snuck out to that concert--The Rabid Chimeras’ are known for having out of control parties. Didn’t like, eight people end up in St. Mungo's?”

“And I’ll have you know I was not one of them,” Blaise sniffed proudly. She rolled her eyes. This is how they spoke. Slytherins didn’t speak of unpleasantries. They all just acted as if the Dark Lord hadn’t begun taking over. 

It drove her insane. 

“He’s got a point,” Theodore Nott said, from the opposite bench. The Slytherin seventh years had all condensed in the first car of the train, the one with booths instead of compartments. She and Blaise sat opposite Theodore, with Draco, Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle to their side in the next booth over. 

“Besides,” Theodore added, looking slyly at her, “I seem to recall several summers your behavior was even more risky.”

Alexa crossed her arms, “Watch it, Nott.”

Blaise snorted, “He’d like to.”

Alexa raised her eyebrows and scoffed, “That was weak, your innuendos disappoint me.”  
Theodore turned beat red, despite the lackluster quality of the insinuation. 

A sudden screeching startled them all, and the train ground to a stuttering stop. 

“We’ve just barely left the station,” Blaise muttered. Alexa’s hand shot to her wand.

“What’s happening?” she demanded, turning to look at Draco. He didn’t meet her eyes. Abruptly Theodore switched sides, now sitting between Alexa and the aisle. She wasn’t sure if it was an attempt to protect her or to contain her. Both options were equally likely. 

The door to the compartment slid open, and Alexa’s grip on her wand turned white-knuckled. A man stood illuminated in the doorway, with black robes that hung loose over his lanky frame, and a silver mask that gleamed eerily in the mid morning sun.

Bloody Death Eaters.

He lifted a gloved hand and pulled the mask off, revealing a handsome grinning face. His eyes were a shade of brown that could have been construed as warm, but there was something very off. Alexa didn’t trust his eyes. They were too hot, too blazing. At any moment the man looked like he could snap and burn everything.

“Oh good,” he said, casually stepping into the car, “Just us Slytherins.” He grinned as if they were all the best of friends, and Pansy smiled eagerly in return. Draco seemed like he was doing everything he could not to make eye contact. She thought she vaguely recognized him. He was only a few years older than they were. She might have even gone to school with him. The thought twisted her stomach. 

“Malfoy!” the Death Eater’s smile broadened, “How’s it going, mate?” 

Alexa turned away from the scene at a flash of movement at the compartment door. Neville Longbottom was peeking in, brows furrowed, mouth tight. 

Meanwhile, the Death Eater had pulled a roll of parchment out of his robe, and was showing it off to a slightly green Draco. 

“Going to take care of the mudblood problem right away.”

“Oh, not the halfbloods?” Pansy simpered.

“Not yet,” the man’s lip curled, “The Dark Lord has another plan for them. But the mudbloods can’t be tolerated.” So that’s what he was after. That didn’t work for her. 

She stood up.

“Alexa no,” Blaise hissed. Theodore gripped her wrist. They knew her well enough to know exactly where her mind was going.

“Don’t start anything,” Theo begged. 

Alexa caught Neville Longbottom’s eye as he peered into the compartment. She exhaled, and slipped her wrist out of his hand. 

“Don’t worry,” she murmured. 

Draco looked up just in time to catch her eye. He shook his head just the tiniest bit. Just enough to let her know that he was deeply against whatever it was she was about to do. It was quite easy to ignore him; she was already in the habit of doing so.

She smiled at the Death Eater, “Sorry, excuse me,” she murmured. 

He flashed her a grin and winked, “Sorry miss,” he responded, stepping slightly back to let her pass.

Draco, Theodore, and Blaise all stared after her in varying states of panic as she slipt from the car.  
“Longbottom,” she hissed, as a hand latched around her arm and dragged her out of sight of the small window. They were in the tiny room between the cars. It was just them, no one to overhear.

“What does he want?” Neville demanded.

“Muggleborns. He’s got a list with names. I don’t even want to know what he’s planning to do with them. We need to get them all off the train. Fast. He’s talking to Draco right now, but we need to move quickly-”

“I don’t know how many of us can apparate them off, even with most of them missing-”

“I’ll get them off. Just help me get them to the back of the train.”

“What do you mean you’ll-”

Alexa rolled up her left sleeve, revealing the burnt in SPQR and helm. Neville was a pure blood. Hopefully he knew what it meant, and what it meant she was capable of. 

"Shadow Travel. I can take more people at once and it's safer than apparition. No risk of splinching." 

He only stared for a moment before nodding. “I’ll go first, people trust me. Make sure to catch any stragglers. Count to ten before following. There’s going to be panic, especially with the younger kids.”

Alexa nodded, and Neville took off through the door to the next car.

One.

Her heart was pounding. She’d get everyone in the last two cars. As long as they were all touching, she could shadow travel them all out.

Two. Where would she take them? There had to be a safe place somewhere. It had to be totally random and unexpected. And someplace dozens of children wouldn’t seem out of place. 

Three. She clicked the lock shut on the door. 

Four. Think di Angelo, think. 

Five. She didn’t have it in her to get them very far. England would have to do. London was the only city she knew relatively well.

Six. A public building in London. Where loads of school children wouldn’t be noticed. 

Seven. How far could she shadow travel?

Eight. She couldn’t afford to pass out. 

Nine. She pulled the green and silver tie off and tucked it in her robe pocket. She would be trusted more without it. 

Ten.

Alexa hurled the door open to a sea of terrified faces. 

“This one’s clear,” Luna Lovegood called. Ginny Weasley was sitting next to her, wand in her hand, eyes fixed on the door. She looked like a cat waiting to pounce. 

Alexa nodded and kept running. Car after car she darted through, pausing only to verify the absence of muggleborns. Thankfully Neville had been thorough. Eventually she hit the tail end of the mass of people. 

“How many more cars to go?” she asked the nearest student, a seventh year Hufflepuff named Annabell Sockets. 

“Di’Angelo! What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded. 

“Making sure there aren’t any stragglers, how many more cars?”

She eyed the Slytherin with distrust, “Six. We’re spanning two cars though. There aren’t that many of us, so it’s been moving pretty quickly.”

Alexa nodded, “Good. There was only one Death Eater, are the older students towards the back? We could probably fight them off if it came down to it.”

She nodded, “That’s how Neville organized us.”

Alexa nodded, “Good. Right, I have a variety of port key on me--Once we get everyone to the back I’ll need everybody to make sure they’re touching each other." That was easier to explain than anything else. 

"Why do you have that?" Melody Moonsfield, a fourth year, asked, her Ravenclaw tie hanging crookedly from her tiny shoulders. 

"Just in case," she shrugged.

They had passed through another car now. Only five now. Or four, considering they took up two cars.   
Alexa was practically bouncing up and down as they finally hit the last two cars. She could hear shouting behind her, high pitched voices mingling with heavier ones. The Death Eater must know something was up by now. She bit her lip, she could get them all there. They could be more that sixty miles outside of London. She had been to the British museum before. She knew where it was. She heard doors beginning to slam throughout the train. Her heart was pounding at least a mile a minute. It was now or never--they were so close. Almost unconsciously she began praying to whatever god was listening that they might make it out of this. 

And then the line stopped moving. 

“Everybody make sure you’ve got a hand on somebody!” Alexa hollered, “You’ve all got to be connected for this to work!” 

Annabell and Melody each grabbed one of her hands, grasping onto the students next to them as well. 

“We’re clear!” Neville yelled squeezing around the muggle borns to stand by her side, “Go!”

“Hold your breath!” She shouted.

And they were gone. 

Alexa fell to her knees the moment they reappeared in the light, her body positively shaking in exhaustion. She squeezed her eyes shut as the world became blurred. She was only vaguely aware of the polished floor that chilled her hands and knees. She was even less aware of the people around her. They sounded like insects buzzing around. She shook her head, trying to clear them out of her ears. They were crawling around inside her skull, poking needles through her skin. 

“Di Angelo!” Annabell was by her side, “di Angelo, are you alright?”

Alexa nodded, forcing herself to her feet, “Fine. Keep everyone calm, keep them in here.  
you’ll blend in--just go look at the exhibits, I’ll go and get help. Stay safe.” She had to get away from the bugs.

Annabell was bewildered, but nodded anyways, “I will.”

She nodded and spun on her heel, diving back into the shadows. The world passed by in a million degrees of black and grey, swirling around her like a blizzard of blurry shapes. She knew exactly where she needed to go. There was only one place she could think really. 

Alexa stepped out in McGonagall's office.

The older woman let out a startled shout and if Alexa had been a moment slower she  
would have been struck by the blast of red light that shot towards her. 

She stumbled, falling to the floor. The trip to Hogwarts took up infinitely less energy that it had taken to transport the fifty plus muggle borns, but she was still burnt out. She would be lucky if she didn’t just pass out when she got back to the train. But the buzzing had been blissfully banished. 

“Miss di Angelo-!” McGonagall said, rising from her desk, “What is going on?” she demanded.

Alexa didn’t bother standing up, “Death Eater on the train--he wanted the muggle borns. Neville rounded them up before he could and I shadow traveled them to the British museum--they’re still there. They need help.” 

“Merlin’s beard,” McGonagall breathed. She hurried around her desk and helped Alexa get vertical, “You need to get back--can you get back?” 

Alexa nodded mutely.

“Then go, before someone notices you’re missing,” McGonagall looked ready to raise hell, a very specific kind of fire and brimstone rising in her eyes. 

Good.

Alexa nodded, and crumpled back into the shadows. She reappeared in the empty hallway between the first car and the second car. Neville was there waiting for her.

He yelped in surprise, clapping a hand over his mouth, “Merlin, you actually did it! Everyone is off the train.” His eyes were enormous. She nodded, swaying.

“Drains me though,” her voice was strangely thick in her own ears as she stared at her shoes.  
Her vision shifted, careening in and out of focus. “Took too many people. Too much. Too tired”

“Are you alright?” Neville asked, his brows pushing together. She only nodded. 

“I had better get back--I’ll talk to you later, yeah?” he bent slightly, trying to move into her field of vision. She nodded again, not having the strength to look up. Every part of her, from her nose to her toes, ached. Her hands were shaking as she fumbled with the compartment door, and she could barely see straight. She couldn’t pass out. Whatever happened, she couldn’t pass out. At least until she got to her seat. She was vaguely aware of shouting from down the train, but she couldn’t make sense of it. The man had probably discovered that the muggle borns were gone. Hopefully the Dark Lord would punish him for his failure. The thought satisfied her.

She took a deep breath, and forced herself to walk straight as she came back into the compartment. Theodore was staring at her, and she wished he wouldn’t. A glance at her watch told her she had only been gone for seven minutes. It wasn’t too shabby, she decided. 

She sat down heavily between Blaise and Theodore, barely able to keep her eyes open. She was still shaking. 

“Where were you?” Blaise whispered.

Alexa shook her head, and with humongous, effort she murmured the words “They’re safe.”

Theodore slid his hand into hers, and she was too tired to protest. 

“Take some,” he said, his voice low. 

She frowned up at him, her head lolled to the side. She was too weak to move. 

“Alexa,” he squeezed her hand, “Please. You can’t pass out now.”

“Y’know what that does,” her words were slurred.

“Come on,” Theodore encouraged.

She closed her eyes, and focused. At once she could feel the energy swirling in Theodore’s body. He squeezed her hand a third time, urging her on. 

Children of Pluto sometimes had an ability. Alexa had no idea if her late siblings had it, but she certainly did. Put simply, it was the ability to drain another living creature of their energy, or life force. It was a move of vampirish proportions, she got any of the energy she drained. The only thing she needed for it to work was skin on skin contact. Theodore knew about it, and they had done this before. She would sometimes take a little bit of his energy (only when he willingly gave it of course) if she was about to pass out. 

Slowly she began to pull from him, taking just a small stream of the pulsing force. She didn’t take too much. Just enough to make her stop shaking. The ache ebbed from her limbs, and she exhaled deeply.

“Thank you,” she whispered. Theodore yawned and nodded. He was fine, she was sure. She could feel how steady his life was, she didn’t take much. 

“Told you,” he grinned. She chuckled, and closed her eyes, leaning on Blaise’s shoulder, Theodore’s hand still clasping hers. 

“You’re going to give me wrinkles,” Blaise muttered, crossing his arms.

“I thought I was going to give myself wrinkles,” she yawned.

“You’re going to give us all wrinkles,” Theodore snorted, leaning his head back against the seat. Alexa made a noise of agreement in response. 

She cracked her eyes open and caught Draco looking at her, something unreadable in his eyes. He looked away as soon as he noticed her looking back. She shrugged it off. Whatever Malfoy’s problem was could wait. She was going to take a nap.

McGonagall would take care of the muggle borns, she was sure. She could rest now. Blaise would scold her later for her ‘damned hero complex’ as he put it, but she didn’t care. It was worth it. Protecting people was always worth it.


	2. Chapter Two: Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alexa must perform yet another daring rescue.

Alexa had either been gone or unconscious when the Death Eater reached the end of the train. From what Blaise had whispered in her ear when she woke up at the Hogsmeade station, he had come back through the train ranting and raving, before disapparating without another word. 

News of the flight of the muggle borns spread fast. Thankfully, she had gone largely unnoticed. She was far less well known than Neville Longbottom. But it was as if they had all been sworn to secrecy. Not a single soul mentioned it, from the tiniest first year to the smarmiest seventh, no one revealed their escape. 

For perhaps the first time ever, the carriages were completely silent. Except, of course, the ones containing the Slytherins. Those were absolutely buzzing. 

Alessandra was in one such carriage, sandwiched between Draco and Blaise, with Pansy and Crabbe across from them. These were not Alexa’s favorite people by any means. But at least the thestrals liked her. 

Her and Draco had been especially awkward since she punched him in fifth year. 

“Can you believe it!” Pansy hissed, arms crossed across her chest, “The mudbloods! All of them! Just gone. Bloody awful.” She was positively steaming. Alexa had to work to keep the grin off her face. She didn’t like Pansy, and being the cause in something that got her so tightly wound was always nice.

“They were here,” Crabbe grumbled, his beady eyes trained on Alexa. She didn’t like him. Out of all the nastier Slytherins, she liked him the least. He always seemed to know, in his own very slow way, that she was behind whatever was going on. Which, to be fair, she usually had a hand in whatever it was. But she didn’t like that he always knew. 

“We all know that!” Pansy rolled her eyes, “But how did they escape?”

Crabbe just continued to stare at her. 

“Di Angelo missed most of it, of course,” Pansy continued. 

Alexa rolled her eyes, “Do you even know what time it is in America?” she snapped. That had been the excuse she’d been throwing around. 

“That’s your excuse for everything,” Blaise snorted, “Don’t know how to measure in pints--American. Blabbering on about miles? American. Doing everything backwards? American. Doing everything with the wrong hand? American!” he snorted.

“Blaise, I’m left handed,” Alexa said dryly. Her head was still foggy. 

Pansy had quite lost interest in their conversation, and turned her attention to the otherwise silent Draco. 

“What do you think happened?” she demanded. Draco blinked, as if coming out of a daze.

“Somebody got them off,” he sat up straighter, his expression going cold. There was something in his eyes that didn’t quite match this sneer on his lips. “They certainly couldn’t have done it themselves. Might have been a portkey or something. Who knows. Probably one of Potter’s little friends.”

“You don’t think it was Longbottom?” Pansy whispered, leaning in. Alexa’s eyes narrowed. 

“Might’ve been, daft blood traitor,” Draco sneered.

“I mean, Hermione Granger was a mudblood,” Alexa pointed out, “You might not want to underestimate them.” She didn’t like the term but to call them by anything else would giver her away. 

Draco colored slightly, and Pansy huffed. 

“Yes, yes,” Pansy waved her hand, “But Granger never showed up. And somehow I doubt Creevy could have pulled this off.”

Alessandra just shrugged and tunned the rest of the conversation out. She spent the rest of the carriage ride sitting silently. 

She separated from the Slytherin's as soon as the carriage stopped. Alone, she trudged up to the castle, through the security measures that were now pointless. The Dark Lord was already in control. There was nothing left to keep out. 

"Di Angelo," a voice hissed to her left. She glanced without turning her head. The student body of Hogwarts was all crammed in the entrance hall now, waiting for the great oak doors of the Great Hall to be opened.

Ginny Weasley, in all her red headed glory, was standing next to her. She was looking straight ahead, her body language casual. But Alexa saw her wand clenched tight in a white knuckled grip that said something very different than what her posture indicated. A glance right found Luna Lovegood with unusually sharp eyes.

"Filch took Neville. He was waiting right on the platform. We don't know where he is--they know, they have to," Ginny said quickly and quietly. "And since you helped before--since you have some kind of power--"

"Shut it," Alexa hissed, "Not here. Don't do anything stupid. I'll keep an eye out. Just keep your head down." If they knew about Neville, they might know about her. But they hadn't grabbed her yet. If they found out what Alexa was she would be in more trouble than even Weasley could imagine. To most of the purebloods she was nothing more than a dangerous, super powered halfbreed. Worse than a muggleborn. If they knew she would run.

But what about Longbottom? She wasn't his friend by any means, but he was against Voldemort and so was she. And he was Potter's friend.

This was a war, even within the walls of the school. There was the light side and the dark side and Alexa knew which side she wanted to be on. But with the house she was in, it would take some convincing for others to believe she was truly against the dark. Especially after her bloodline was discovered. Even after what she had done today.

If she could help Neville, she absolutely would. There was more to it than just the morality. It would be to her advantage to help him.

And she was in his debt. If she hadn't been taken in now, she wasn't going to be. Neville hadn't ratted her out.

"I'll do what I can," She decided, looking between the two girls, "Just keep your head down and don't try anything."Ginny and Luna nodded, fading away into the crowd.

The doors opened.

Alexa sat at the Slytherin table, wedged between Blaise and Theodore. This time she was sure they had positioned themselves to keep her contained. She kept her eyes fixed on the staff table. Snape sat in the headmaster's seat, and her blood boiled.

Dumbledore, for all his mysteries and oddities, had let her into school. And even in his death she owed him that. McGonagall sat to his left. Flitwick after. Hagrid was nowhere to be seen. Most of the faces were familiar. Except for two nasty looking characters sitting to the right of Snape. The man and women were similar, with the same bright blue eyes and pallid skin. The woman had startling red hair, but the man's was jet black. They were proud, noses up over crooked teeth. Thick and coiling and black, the dark mark writhed over their left forearms.

They must be new staff. Four Death Eaters in the castle now. With more to come surely.

No sign of Neville though. Or Filch for that matter. Her leg bounced up and down as she scanned the room. The school seemed colder. Emptier. There were many familiar faces missing. The sorting was shorter than usual. Quieter. No one was excited for the new first years to be here. Not with what the year surely promised.

Snape rose, "Welcome back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," his voice was the same quiet breeze it had always been. Laced with menace and something dark. "There are some changes in staff this year. Professor Amycus Carrow will be serving as our Dark Arts teacher. Professor Alecto Carrow will be serving as our muggle studies teacher. They will be sharing the duty of deputy headmaster." He paused, and surveyed the room like a vulture, "As you are all aware our previous headmaster has passed. His time has gone. A new era is upon us... And era where those deserving, where those who have a natural born right to magic and all of entails will succeed and prosper. An era where those who are dirty and impure will not be tolerated. This is a dawning. The Dark Lord's time has come." The Slytherin table cheered, save a few quiet individuals. He waited for the cheers to die down, and spoke once again, "Rebellion will not be tolerated...Anyone who opposes the Dark Lord will be handled most severely. Our newest staff members, Amycus and Alecto Carrow will be in charge of not only our Dark Arts class, but discipline." He sad and nodded towards the nasty looking twins. "Thank you, Severus," he grinned wickedly, "My sister and I are here to be the eyes and ears of our Dark Lord. Before we begin the feast we have a demonstration..." 

With a great clanking of chains, Filch emerged, dragging a bloodied Neville behind him. Neville stumbled, struggling to stay on his feet to match Filch's lurching but brisk face. His nose was broken, she was sure. There was something wrong with his leg. His eye was swollen shut. Alexa felt a violent surge of hatred towards the man. He'd worked at the school with the students for years, and he seemed to gain a sick sort of delight in dragging Neville behind him.

"This," he paused dramatically, licking his lips, "is what happens when you go against the might of the Dark Lord! Your classmate is suspected of helping the mudbloods escape of the train today...just imagine what we'll do to you if we actually catch you." Neville was dragged away and Alexa closed her eyes briefly, memorizing his energy. She could see his life force flickering behind her eyelids and kept track of it as it was pulled out of the room and down the hall. She would be able to find it again.

"Let the feast begin," Snape called. The food appeared on the table, as magical as always. The conversation around her was nothing but a buzz for the most part. She stayed out of it unless someone asked her a direct question. She could get to her dorm, pretend to go to bed, and then sneak out to get him. Of course, there was always a chance he might be let go after being held. Either way, she needed to at least go talk to him. Dinner finished and the students rose, making their way to their common rooms. Luna appeared by her side, the Ravenclaw table was next to the Slytherin one.

"I'll get him once I'm back in my dorm. People can't notice I'm gone," Alexa murmured, before Luna could even speak. Luna nodded and faded back, presumably to Ginny.

She avoided Blaise and Theo on the walk back, making a b-line for the girls dormitory. She would tell Tracey and Daphne that she was tired and was just going to bed. Pansy and Millicent wouldn’t care what she did.

But when she got to the dormitory something was off. 

“Where’s Tracey?” Alexa asked. Daphne was alone in the room, sitting, unblinking, cross legged on her bed. 

“Oh haven’t you heard?” Pansy came through the door, “Davis never showed. She’s a halfblood. Can you believe that? A halfblood, in Slytherin!” Pansy sat down with a huff, looking scandalized. Alexa and Daphne were silent. Pansy scoffed at their lack of reaction, and turned back down the stairs to the common room. 

“Is that true?” Alexa asked Daphne. Daphne nodded miserably. 

“I couldn’t understand why she wasn’t responding to my letters,” Daphne pulled her knees to her chest, “She’s on the run. I can’t believe it--” she sniffed, “She never told me. Astoria and I almost didn’t come back this year. We’re purebloods, but still...”

“Wherever she is, she’s probably safer there than she would be here,” Alexa said, sitting down next to Daphne. 

“I hope so,” Daphne leaned against her shoulder, “I don’t know what to do. I have to protect Astoria but…” Daphne was barely whispering now, as if the walls themselves had ears.

“I know,” Alexa sighed. 

Daphne squeezed her eyes shut and Alexa wrapped her arm around the other girl’s shoulders. 

“Being in Slytherin will protect us, if we keep quiet,” Alexa murmured. Daphne only nodded. "And we'll watch out for each other, I'll keep an eye on your sister too. We have to protect the younger kids." 

“Thank you," Daphne said, "I’m going to go to bed now, I think,” the she added quietly. Alexa nodded, and moved away.

“I think I am too,” she agreed. The two girls changed in silence, and Alexa pulled on a t-shirt and sweat pants. She tucked her sneakers under the covers of her bed where Daphne couldn’t see, to be pulled on later. 

“Goodnight,” Daphne called miserably, pulling her curtains shut. 

“Goodnight,” Alexa responded.

She closed the curtains around her bed, and pulled out her wand. Murmuring quietly, she ensured no one could pull her curtains apart and yanked on her shoes. Sitting there in the darkness, she closed her eyes and sat cross-legged. She had to find Neville. Slowly she scanned the castle, examining each bit of light that popped up. He wasn’t in a tower. He wasn’t in the main body of the castle. He was down, down in the dungeon not far from where she sat. 

Her eyes flicked open and she dropped into the shadows. The world was black and grey and soft. There wasn't a hard edge in sight as the forms and figured around her blended together. She could sense where Neville was though, and she pushed through the swirling grey mud to reach him. 

Neville jumped when she appeared from the darkness. He was in a small stone cell--a real, proper dungeon cell with bars and everything--with no one else around. He was sat in the corner, eyes open and ears perked, although surely he couldn't see much in the dim torch light. 

"Ready for a prison break?" Alexa whispered. 

Neville grinned, and leapt to his feet, only to stumble. She lunged to catch him, pulling his arm over his shoulders. 

"You're brilliant, you know that?" he said, beaming. 

She chuckled, "I've been told. Are they letting you go soon? Or am I busting you out of here?" she asked, easing him so he was leaning against the wall.

Neville ran his tongue over the slice in his lip, "I overheard them talking, I'm only here for the night." He exhaled, slowly sliding down the wall so he could sit. She mirrored him, sitting crosslegged at his side. 

"You look terrible," she said, not knowing what else to say.

Neville laughed, "I'm sure...So you’re a demigod?” he asked. She nodded, absentmindedly scratching at an ink spot on her shoe.

"I am," she shrugged, looking at him, "My dad is Pluto."

“What does that mean?” he asked, brows furrowing, "My mythology is a little rusty." 

“It means,” she paused, “My dad is the Roman god of the Underworld. Lots of dead people. He's a real hoot at parties. I grew up in New Rome, it's out in California. I learned how to sword fight and build things and be a good soldier.”

“And you have powers?” he probed, eyes bright.

“I do. I can shadow travel--that’s how we got here. And I can sense where people are by feeling their life force. And I can talk to the dead, and summon them. That’s the long and short of it. Dementors react weirdly to me. They’re basically shadow monsters. I’m not sure how that worked. I wasn’t as affected by them. I don’t know,” she shrugged.

He nodded, "A lot of people are afraid of demigods, is that why nobody knows?" 

"The purebloods are afraid," she corrected, "Some of the halfbloods too. But most of them don't know, the same with the muggleborns. It's easier that way. A couple people know, Blaise, Theodore. And Draco, that was an accident though." She shifted uncomfortably "I had better get back,” she stood up, “My dorm mates think I’m in there. If you're not out tomorrow I'll come back alright?"

He smiled, "Yeah, you should get going. Thank you, Alexa. I have a feeling this is just the beginning."

Alexa sighed, “I think you’re right. Goodnight Neville.”

He smiled, “Goodnight.”

Alexa vanished into the darkness and passed out the moment her head hit her pillow.


	3. Chapter Three: Family Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alexa has an unwanted family reunion.

November 3, 1997 

And with that, any chance Alessandra had of keeping her head down during the war was lost. Which, truthfully, had been her plan all along. There was no way she wasn’t going to get involved. Dumblefore's Army rose again, with Neville as it's ringleader. And with Alexa as their secret weapon. Her, Neville, Ginny, Luna, and soon many others found themselves typically sporting black eyes, or bloody noses--all punishments from the Carrows. On any given day one could find graffiti plastered on the stone walls of the castle, screaming messages like "Dumbledore's Army still Recruiting" or "Long Live Potter." Defense lessons resumed in the room of requirement. A few months later, it was given a second purpose when Neville was forced to disappear from the public eye, or risk execution. Alexa became their messenger and their supplier. She was the only one who could get people in and out of the castle without the Carrows or Snape knowing. 

And she was good at it. She could move across the entire castle in seconds, completely undetected. She could get people in and out of the castle, she could bring in more supplies. She had her role in the scheme of the resistance and she enjoyed it. 

Blaise and Theodore, however, were growing more and more concerned. On more than one occasion she'd found them sleeping int he common room waiting for her or trying to catch her. "Alexa, we need to talk," Blaise said, as he and Theodore appeared on either side of her. They were walking to Dark Arts, and the hallway was otherwise empty. 

"About what?" she asked, although she had a sinking suspicion. She frowned, wincing as it stretched the still healing cut that stretched across her eyebrow to her blackened eye. 

"You know what," Blaise's voice was low, "Alexa you're crazy."

She chuckled, "You've been saying that since first year."

He gave her a severe look, "Alessandra," she pursed her lips at her full name, "We're worried about you. We know what you're doing, and it's not safe."

"And?" The word came out more harshly than she had intended. 

"And you're going to get yourself killed!" Theodore snapped. His brows scrunched together and his mouth was set in a hard line. 

"Lower your voice, Nott," she snapped. 

"Look," Blaise put his hand on her shoulder, "I don't support this nonsense, you know that. Neither does Theo--but we're Slytherins. And if we keep quiet and keep our heads down we'll make it through this unscathed."

She glared, anger pushing up inside her, "You might be content just to sit here while our peers are being tortured and murdered, but I'm not about to. Blaise I'm not like you--I can't just not do anything. And you don't need to worry about me," her voice softened, "I'm a soldier. I can do this. I know how to do this. Blaise this is what I’m trained to do, don’t you understand that?” She didn’t want to upset him. 

"You're an idiot," Theodore snapped. 

“What?” she demanded, blinking in surprise.

"Theo-" Blaise tried to intervene. 

"No, she's an idiot, and she's going to get herself killed on some whim of stupidity. Let the blood traitors rot, what have they ever done for you? You're so pigheaded--you’re seventeen years old, you’re not some epic hero responsible for the fate of the world. Your bloody hero complex is going to kill you. And what’s that going to do to Blaise and I?" he demanded, “Or Octavian and who ever else at camp?” That one stung. She hadn’t even been able to contact Octavian since getting to school. It just wasn’t safe. “You’re so selfish, you don’t even consider-”

Alexa's blood boiled, "We're in the middle of a goddamn war here, Nott," she swung around to face him, stabbing a finger into his chest, “I don’t think I’m some hero--I’m just doing what’s right. And you know what?” she laughed sharply, “I’m really good at it. It’s not my problem if you’re too cowardly to do anything good in this situation. We're not together anymore, Theodore, and even if we were you wouldn't get to tell me what to do." She stormed towards the classroom, ignoring Blaise calling after her. 

There were three empty seats left, one next to Draco and the other two at a desk together. Choosing the lesser of two evils, Alexa slammed herself down next to Draco. He raised his eyebrows. 

“A bit moody today, di Angelo?” he asked. 

“I’m never in the mood for you, Malfoy,” she snapped. She didn’t look at Blaise and Theodore as they came in and sat down. Bloody Theodore. 

The class continued to chatter. It was Ravenclaws and Slytherins mixed together, along with the two remaining Gryffindor seventh years. Classes had been shuffled as more and more students disappeared. Alexa, of course, knew where they were. 

Carrow strode into the room, his robes billowing impressively. 

“Good morning class!” he grinned, hands on his hips. Amycus Carrow was a man who thoroughly reveled in whatever scrap of power he had over others. 

“Good morning,” the class chanted back. 

“Today we’re going to be having a bit of a game day,” he declared, rolling up his sleeves, “We’re going to start off slow.You’ll be paired with whoever you’re sitting next to. Now, everybody stand up and push your desks back against the wall.” He watched, bouncing on the balls of his feet as the students obeyed. 

He waved his wand and two lines appeared, one on either end of the room. 

“Line up opposite your partner!” he called. Alexa swung around and stalked to the other side of the room, facing Draco with a molten gold gaze. Her heart was pounding, and she was itching to fight. 

“Now, the rules are simple,” he grinned cruelly, “Fight until one of you gives up. All curses are allowed--but don’t kill anyone. We'll go around winners fighting winners. The loser has to deal with the boggart." He pointed at a shuddering wardrobe in the corner, "Ready, set, go!” He jumped back out of the line of fire. 

Alexa swished her wand, violently thinking ‘stupefy’ in her head. Draco stumbled backwards.

“Protego!” he shouted. The red light ricocheted and dissipated. 

Alexa flung curse after curse at him. Jelly legs, confundus, petrificus totalus, tarantallegra. Draco had no time to shoot as she silently spun spells, advancing on him all the while. She was hyper aware of her surroundings as adrenaline pumped through her.

Finally he flung himself to the left, surprising her with a flipendo that sent her flying. She slammed into Theodore, and they both went down. Without missing a beat Alexa somersaulted to her feet, another flash of red already flying from her wand. Draco shoved Lavender Brown to the ground as he threw himself out of the way. The light hit the desk behind him and the desk turned to wood chips. 

“ALRIGHT!” Carrow shouted, thrusting his wand into the air. A boom echoed through the classroom, shaking the windows an eliciting several screams from students who dove for cover. 

Draco froze, and Alexa took his distraction as an opportunity to flick her wand at him one last time. He stiffened, and fell to the floor with a heavy clunk. 

Carrow was bouncing on the balls of his feet, looking between the two of them. It was obvious he wasn’t going to torture Draco, and he seemed hesitant to punish any of the Slytherins the way he punished the other houses. 

“You two are going to handle the boggart on your own!” he snapped, “Class dismissed!” He waved his wand at Draco, who clambered to his feet, shooting Alexa a hateful glare as he did. 

“Yes sir,” he muttered, as the rest of the class fled the room. Carrow went as well, leaving them alone together. 

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” Alexa grumbled.

“You do it,” Draco snapped, crossing his arms, “You got us into this mess anyways.”

“I won the fight Malfoy, you do it,” she snorted as he crossed his arms like a child. She absolutely didn't want to deal with the bogart. And besides, he had lost. He was absurd, the way he strutted around. Of course, there hadn’t been much strutting lately. 

In truth, she didn’t know what her boggart was. She’d never gotten the chance to see it in third year, and quite frankly she didn’t want her deepest darkest fear to be revealed with Draco there. She wasn’t even sure what it was. 

“Only because you kept going after he yelled!” Draco hissed. She arched an eyebrow.

“That’s a lot of bark from someone who won’t even face a boggart,” she taunted, crossing her arms. 

Draco huffed, “Fine,” he whined. He drew his wand, and with a single whip of the wood the cabinet doors opened and--

Voldemort emerged from the cabinet, tall and thin, his nose a slit, his red eyes gleaming, and his great black cloak billowing behind him. Draco fell backwards, his face ashen, scrambling away from the advancing figure.

“Draco,” the Dark Lord’s high, cold voice echoed through the room, “Draco, Draco, Draco, you’ve done well-” Draco’s eyes filled with fear- “I’m so proud of you.” The boggart grinned, “All those people just,” it snapped his fingers, “Gone.” Draco seemed frozen, and the boggart advanced. 

“Hey!” Alexa shouted, throwing herself in front of Draco.

The boggart twitched it’s neck and turned to her, at once shrinking and going soft. The body went limp and fell to the floor like a rag doll. 

Jason Grace, no more than twelve years old, was lying on the floor. He was paper-white, his lips blue. Her hands shook and she raised her wand.

“Ri-Riddikulus!” she gasped.  
The boggart twisted, contorting momentarily into a mass of black before reforming as a tall woman, dressed in an old fashioned skirt and blouse. Her thick black hair was done up and pinned back into delicate curls, her lips were crimson, and her eyes were the most beautiful golden-brown Alexe had ever seen. 

“Mom…” Alexa breathed. It felt like her heart stopped and tears pushed to her eyes before she could stop them. 

Maria di Angelo shrunk back, “My daughter, a monster!” she shrieked, her voice terrified and thickly accented, “A murderer! A monster! Why did you have to be the one to live?!”

“No--no, please,” the words burst from her lips before she could stop them, “Riddikulus!” she whispered. 

The boggart spun, shrinking into a dark haired six year old with dirt smudged on his nose, “Sissy why? Why did you kill him-” Nico looked up at her, eyes wide and fearful. 

“Riddikulus!” her voice broke, and she could feel herself shaking. It wasn’t real. He was gone, this wasn’t real. The boggart grew once more, it grew and grew and grew. And there stood her father, ten feet tall, his hair and eyes as black as night, his robes embroidered with the damned. 

I should never have saved you,” he said, looking down at her. 

Rage filled her, “NO, YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE!” she screamed, “REDUCTO!” 

The boggart exploded, showering both them and the room in a thick black sludge.

She was panting, her chest heaving. Angrily she wiped her eyes on her sleeve. At once, standing seemed like it was too much, and she dropped to the floor, her knees drawn up to her chest. She stared straight ahead, mind blank. If she refused to feel maybe it would get better. 

Draco sat next to her. She had almost forgotten he was there. 

“I never killed anyone,” she said hoarsely, even though he didn’t ask. It had been an accident. She had almost killed Jason. They had been on opposite sides in the war games, and she had grabbed him--she didn’t know she could drain his life. 

“Neither did I.” 

They were completely silent. There was no sound in the room except for the occasional drip of boggart from the ceiling. 

“I won’t tell anyone,” he said then, still staring ahead. 

“Neither will I.”

She swallowed hard, and squeezed her eyes shut. She could still see Maria behind her eyelids, staring at her. She wanted to cherish the image. That was the first time she had seen her mother’s face. Pluto had wiped her memory of her childhood. But Maria's face had been twisted with such fear that it made her sick to her stomach. She glanced at Draco, only to find him looking at her. Neither of them knew what to say. There wasn’t anything to say really. They knew the other’s darkest secrets now. What were they even supposed to do with that? At least Alexa knew Draco wouldn’t tell--not after she had seen how much he didn’t want to be with the Dark Lord. It was mutually assured destruction. 

“Are you done yet-WHAT HAPPENED??!” Carrow had come back, and was now looking around his slime-coated classroom in disgust.

“I blew it up,” Alexa monotoned, not rising from the floor. She wasn’t in the mood. 

“That’s--who the hell taught you to do that?” he spluttered. Alexa shrugged, not responding. 

“That’s not even--the spell is so simple--” Carrow seemed honestly baffled as he shuffled around his room looking around. “Clean it up! You have detention for the next month--I’ll speak to your head of house to arrange it!” absolutely livid, he spun around and stormed out of the room. 

“That went well,” Draco said.

Alexa burst out laughing, flopping backwards onto the stone floor, “Lupin would be so disappointed,” she cackled. 

Draco chuckled, and then giggled, and then he was on the floor too and laughing as hard as she was. 

“I like your way better,” he gasped. 

They laughed until their sides hurt, and then it was quiet again. 

“Are you alright?” Draco asked. She paused, the question surprising her. 

“Yeah. Just surprised me. They’re--it just surprised me.” She closed her eyes again, trying to remember exactly how her mother and brother had looked. She wasn’t a monster. She wasn’t. They were wrong. 

“Are you?” she asked him. 

He chuckled, but this time it was without mirth. “As okay as I’m going to be.”

She snorted, “I feel that.”

“We had better get started,” Draco sighed, rising. He offered his hand to her, she took it. 

What a strange bond with Draco Malfoy.

They cleaned the room mostly in silence, but even with magic and both of them working as fast as they could, they still missed dinner. 

Alexa couldn’t get her mother’s face out of her head.

Slughorn came in just as they were finishing, a tray in his hands. 

“Are you two alright?” he seemed more concerned than angry.

“I think the Boggart had it worse than us, sir,” Alexa said. But her voice was still too hollow to pass as joking. 

“I brought you dinner--and made sure your detentions were with me.You’ll be cleaning and organizing the potions supply closet every Saturday for the rest of the month,” he seemed nervous, and looked over his shoulder before handing them the plates. He pulled out his wand and waved it, and three desks pulled together, two facing each other and one on the end. He took the end seat. 

Draco and Alexa, stomachs growling, sat across from each other and dug into their food. 

“Thank you sir,” Alexa said. Draco murmured his thanks as well.

“No trouble--why did you blow up the boggart?” he seemed concerned. Alexa was silent for a moment. 

“Riddikulus wasn’t working.”

“What do you mean?” he was looking at her intensely, and at once her hands began to shake. 

“It-” her voice broke. “It wasn’t working.” She clenched her hands into fists. Draco's eyes caught hers, somewhere between concern and fear. 

“What happened, Miss di Angelo?” She did not want to talk about this. 

“My parents happened.” 

That shut Slughorn up. Most, if not all, the staff knew about her unusual circumstances. Draco glanced between them, seeming to not know what to say. So he put more potatoes in his mouth, and Alexa did the same. Slughorn didn’t ask him any questions. He seemed to be avoiding looking at him. Every now and then his eyes would dart towards the blond, but never for long. /p>

They finished their meals under Slughorn’s supervision, before he dismissed them with a final goodnight. Side by side, Alexa and Draco made their way back to the common room. She felt sick, her stomach churning. She could feel a headache building behind her eyes. Briefly she contemplated going to the room of requirement. Neville would be there, and Lavender Brown, Seamus Finnigan, and Zachariah Smith, and several others who weren't able to be seen around the castle anymore. But she was already at the stone wall to the common room, and Draco had already said the pass word, and he was watching her expectantly, waiting for her to follow him in. She gave him a half smile, and followed silently. 

“G’night Dragon,” she yawned. 

Draco’s mouth twisted into something that just might have been a smile, “You haven’t called me that since we were kids. Goodnight Alexa.” She smiled back, and went up the stairs to her dorm. It was midnight. 

As she changed into her pajamas all she could see was her mother, face twisted in horror as she looked at her only surviving child. At once Alexa felt like she was choking. She began to shake, and she pressed a hand over her mouth to hold back a sob. 

It wasn’t fair. Gods, it wasn’t fair. How dare she survive when Nico and Bianca didn’t. They should be here. They should all be here--her mother included. Would they think she was a monster? Would they have been scared or disappointed? Would they have cared that she was a witch? Would Nico and Bianca have been magical too?

She would never know. And it wasn’t fair. And she hated herself for it but she climbed into bed and pulled the curtains shut and dropped away into the shadows. She was in the boys dorm now, appearing suddenly on the corner of Theo’s bed. 

She hadn’t done this ages. She hated it--she hated that she was weak enough to turn to her ex and cause him more pain than she already had. Even though they had been fighting, he wouldn’t turn her away. She knew that. He still had feelings for her. 

“Wha-” Theo muttered, fumbling for his wand, “Oh--” he sat up, murmuring a spell that would prevent anyone from overhearing them. “Hey, hey what’s wrong,” he dropped his wand and reached out for her trembling hands. Alexa curled into his chest, shaking violently. 

“The boggart,” was all she managed to choke out. 

Theodore held her tightly, rubbing circles in her back, “You’re okay, you’re okay now.” he said softly.

“I saw my mom,” she whispered. For a moment Theodore paused, seeming shocked into stillness. 

“It was just a boggart,” he said softly, lying back down and pulling her with him. He pressed his lips to her forehead, and let her curl against him. This was how it went. She would get weak and use him for comfort, giving him some small hope that they could recreate what they once had. She wouldn’t be there when he woke up.


	4. Chapter Four: An Unwelcome Guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alexa makes a rather public display of her political feelings.

November 4, 1997

Alexa and Theo didn’t speak about the night she had snuck into his bed. She left long before he was awake and snuck back to the girls dorm to get ready for the day. 

By the time she was ready, the other girls were awake in the dorm, grumbling about the time. 

“I swear Alexa, there must be something wrong with you if you’re this awake this early,” Daphne grumbled. 

Alexa chuckled, “It’s not that early,” she pulled her robe over her shoulders. It was only eight. She waited until Daphne was ready, chatting amiably. By nine they descended the stairs. 

Daphne went on ahead to breakfast, but Alexa remained perched on the couch, keeping an eye on the boys dormitory. She was waiting for Blaise and Theo, her leg bouncing anxiously. It wasn’t that fighting between the three of them was unusual. In fact, it was rather a constant thing. But rarely did Blaise and Theo both team up against her. And she was worried. More worried than they would ever know. 

The appeared together, talking amongst themselves. The glanced at her and Theo’s expression shifted to become softer. Blaise pursed his lips, but they walked towards her all the same. 

“Hey,” she greeted, rising as they reached her. 

“Alexa,” Blaise greeted her. 

“Goodmorning,” Theo added, glancing at Blaise. Theo was always more forgiving. Blaise could hold a grudge like nothing she had ever seen. 

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, as the three of them left the common room, "I know you're just trying to look out for me."

"I don't know why, considering you're so hellbent on dying!" Blaise sniffed. 

Alexa huffed, "I'm not hellbent on dying, I just understand that it's an acceptable risk."

"It is not an acceptable risk!" Blaise hissed, "What the hell is your problem? Death is kind of a big deal, di Angelo!"

"Blaise," she switched to Italian, which they both spoke, "I am doing what's right. This is--this is what I need to do. I am doing something good, and trying to stop people from getting hurt. I know you think their kind are less--"

"I don't support him though! You know that. I don't want them killed!" He seemed shocked. 

"I know that. But just because you're willing to be complacent doesn't mean I am. Besides, You know what I am. You don't think if anyone finds out I won't be prosecuted? I'm a magical creature, as you like to forget."

"So don't expose yourself!" He grabbed her arm. There was no one else in the hallway now, just the three of them. "Stay safe!"

"Blaise if I'm not doing something good, or at least trying, there's no point in me being alive," she fixed him with her golden eyes, staring into his oak ones. 

Blaise groaned, pulling her into a tight hug that seemed to surprise them both. 

"If you die, I'm going to kill you," he grumbled. His voice was thick. 

"I would expect nothing less," she chuckled.

Theo was watching the two of them with a very intense expression, trying to follow along as best he could. 

“I hate it when you two do that,” he grumbled. 

She chuckled, "Are we okay?" She asked, switching back to English. 

Blaise nodded, albeit grumpily. 

"Yes," Theo agreed, his eyes lingering on hers. 

She nodded, and they continued on their way. 

Snape was standing when they got there, glaring around like an overgrown bat, peering down from the staff table. He seemed to be eyeing the Slytherins in particular. 

"Quiet." His voice rang out, and suddenly you could hear a pin drop. 

"Today we are having a very special guest."

Blank faces stared up at him. Alexa surveyed the other teachers. Most were looking down at their plates, some were missing. McGonagall was glaring at Snape with so much fire she was surprised he wasn't burning. 

"The Dark Lord is coming to inspect the school."

Gasps were heard across the room. Draco, who was sitting to her right, when positively green. She nudged him, and he glanced at her, before exhaling and relaxing his shoulders. 

"He will be here at noon. Classes are canceled for today in preparation of his coming. At exactly eleven thirty you will all be lined up in your common room by year. Your head of house will come to collect you. That is all."

He sat back down. 

Alexa turned to Blaise, "Merda."

"I know what that one means," Theo piped up. 

She snorted, and grabbed a piece of toast. 

"Meet you in the common room later," she said, rising. Blaise pursed his lips but said nothing. 

She got to the end of the hall, and was about to drop into the shadows but-

“Miss di Angelo?” a tiny voice called. She turned around, two Hufflepuffs were walking towards her. One she recognized as Miranda Cartwright from herbology. Miranda was a seventh year. But the other, a tiny boy with curly brown hair and freckles on his tan nose, looked like he was barely old enough to be a first year. 

“Hi…?” she looked between the two of them. 

“Miss di Angelo,” the little boy repeated, tears building in his eyes. 

Alexa crouched down so they were at the same level, “What’s wrong?” Tears began to bubble from his dark eyes, and he seemed unable to speak. 

“This is Archie Spigget,” Miranda explained, putting a hand on his shoulders, “His sister has gone missing--her name is Amanda. We don’t know where she is or could have gone and…” she trailed off as a sob broke out of Archie’s lips, “We’re worried. The Carrows interrogated Archie this morning. They were asking about his family and his sister and other things. I don’t think he’s safe.”

Alexa nodded, “Hey Archie,” she said, turning back to the boy, “I’m going to take you to some friends of mine who will keep you safe while I find your sister. Is that okay?” He nodded silently, wiping his face on his sleeve. 

“I’ll take care of him,” she said to Miranda. Miranda nodded. 

“You’ll be safe with her Archie,” she said kindly, ruffling the boy’s hair. He nodded, and together the two of them set off down the corridor. 

They were silent. Archie was still crying and Alexa wasn't the best at comforting young people. They made it to the seventh floor and she walked back and forth three times. The boy gasped as the door appeared, and she opened it, revealing the expanse that was the Room of Requirement. 

"Back again?" Zachariah sneered at her, but the nasty expression on his face fell away when he saw Archie's tear stained face. 

"Archie, what's wrong?" He demanded, stepping forward and grasping the first year's shoulders. 

The boy's lips quivered, and a loud wail erupted from him. He threw his arms around Zachariah, clinging tightly and burying his face in the older wizard's robes.

"His older sister is missing," Alexa supplied. 

Zachariah's face went white, "Amanda or Shelby?" He demanded. 

"Amanda. I didn't know there was another.” 

He swallowed hard, "Shelby graduated last year. She's my girlfriend."

That would explain why Archie was so quick to latch on. 

"I'm keeping an eye out. But there's something else," she glanced at Archie and thought better of speaking, "Where's Neville?" she asked. This was the most pleasant Zachariah had ever been to her. Especially since it was announced to the other rebels that she was a demigod. 

"The Hog's Head. He's talking to Aberforth about getting the latest group out. Alexa, please find her," his voice was soft and pleading. 

"I'll get her back," she assured him. It would take time though. Time she wasn't sure if she had before the Dark Lord arrived. "Don't let anyone leave the room."

"What's going on?" Ginny walked over.

"Come on Archie, let's go sit down," Zachariah looked between the two girls and lead the younger boy away. 

"He's coming. At noon."

Ginny's eyes grew wide, "Oh shit."

"I'm going to go get Neville," she said, "Keep everyone inside."

Ginny nodded, and she spun and vanished, appearing in the back room of the Hogshead. 

"MERLIN!" Aberforth shouted, leaping back and almost stabbing her with a broom. 

"Sorry!" She raised her hands to show she wasn't a threat, "I need to talk to Neville-"

"He's out front, I'm just gettin 'im a pint. Next time come through the door for Hecate's sake. You're going to give me a ruddy heart attack."

"Sorry sir," she ducked around him, and around the counter. 

"Alexa," Neville greeted her in surprise, "What are you--"

"He's coming to the castle," she cut him off. 

"You-Know-Who is coming ?" Neville demanded, lurching to his feet. 

"At noon." 

"Shit," he cursed. "Aberforth!" he half ran to the back room, Alexa hot on his heels. 

"What is it boy?" Aberforth asked crossly. 

"You-Know-Who is coming to the castle. We may need to have you on standby in case we need to evacuate."

Aberforth scowled, "Bloody bastard. Alright, I'll figure something out out. Get back to the castle and handle the others."

Neville nodded and Alexa offered her hand to him. 

"It'll be faster," she said, at his hesitation. 

He signed, "I don't know how you stand it." But he grabbed her hand and they were gone.  
"Alright!" Neville yelled, "Everyone gather 'round." People emerged from every corner of the room, with Ginny and Luna coming to stand beside Alexa and Neville. 

"I don't want anyone to panic," Neville began, which, in Alexa's opinion, was a sure fire way to start panic, "But I need everyone to pack. Voldemort is coming to the castle, and we might need to evacuate."

"We've already started," Ginny filled in.

"Alright, good," he said, "I want you to break into groups. Luna, Ginny, can you handle that? I need everyone who can apparate paired with a group of younger students. Alexa?"

Alexa met his eyes. 

"I need you to be ready to get us out. Can you do that?" He asked. 

She nodded, "I can get us all at least a hundred miles away--but the minute we stop I'll pass out. So we'll have to plan around that."

Neville nodded, "Alright, let's move!" he yelled. 

The crowd dispersed.

"Neville," she called. 

He turned, "Yeah?" 

"There's a girl missing. A third year Hufflepuff, Amanda Spigget. Her brother Archie was questioned. He's here now, I left him with Smith. I'm trying to find her."

His face went dark, "Merlin," he rubbed his hand over his face, "Good luck. Be safe."

She nodded, touched by his concern, and vanished into the shadows.

She reappeared on her bed, and checked her watch. It was only ten. She had an hour and a half before she had to be in the common room. She crossed her legs, and closed her eyes.  
Lights lit up around her. In her mind's eye she sorted through the ones she knew. Those were eliminated. She the eliminated everyone over the age of 14. Starting at the top of the tallest tower, Alexa looked for any soul that seemed out of place. 

There was nothing in any of the towers.

Nothing on the top floor. Or the floor after. Or the floor after that. Sweat was beading on her forehead, she had to find Amanda. She knew she was running out of time. 

"Alexa?" a voice called. Her concentration cracked and the lights vanished. Exhaling deeply and forcing herself not to take her annoyance out on Daphne, who had been the one to speak, she opened her eyes. 

"What's up?" she asked, straightening her tie. 

"It's time," the other girl was fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. 

"Ah," Alexa glanced at her watch. It was 11:25. She stood up, yawning, and made her way to the door, "Let's go." Daphne trailed on behind her. 

Blaise and Theodore were waiting for her at the bottom of the staircase. And, much to her surprise, it seemed as if Draco was as well. He wasn't standing quite with Blaise and Theo, but his he was staring at the girl's stairs and when his eyes met hers he nodded at her.

"What were you doing?" Blaise hissed as they came to stand next to each other in line. 

"There's a girl missing," she whispered back. 

He fell silent. Theodore stood on her left as they lined up, and Draco on her right. She wasn't entirely sure when he had appeared by her side, but she didn't protest. 

Slughorn appeared, a parchment in his hand. He took role. The only person missing was Tracey Davis. 

Silently they filed out of the common room, one year after another. No one spoke as they wound through the once safe corridors of the castle. No one spoke as they walked through the great oak doors that had welcomed them to magic what felt like an eternity ago. As they stood under the stormy sky that was the ceiling Alexa found herself looking around and examining each face she saw. They were all more pinched than she remembered. Their eyes were a bit more shifty, they didn't seem to be able to sit still. Their hands would twitch to their pockets at the slightest noise. 

Any of them could be gone any day now. And they all knew it. 

It reminded her of all the worst things about camp. Gods she missed Octavian.

Slughorn had them line up in the very front, in front of the Ravenclaws, then Hufflepuffs, then Gryffindors. The head table was to her left, and the rest of the tables were absent. She checked her watch. 11:50. The teachers filed in after them, lining up in front of the head table adjacent their students. She could see McGonagall's fists clenched from where she stood. Snape swooped in then, like the overgrown bat he was, and made his way to the center of the staff. Not once did he spare a glance for the students it was his duty to protect. 

“I expect everyone to be on their best behavior,” he declared, “Any foolishness will be punished severely,” he crooned the word, as if he was anticipating it already.

“Bastard,” Alexa breathed. Draco gave her an alarmed look and Theodore stomped on her foot. She did not react to either of these things. She did, however, wish she had brought her dagger. 

And then the great oak door opened once more. 

It was twelve o’clock on the dot. At least the Dark Lord was punctual. 

Voldemort strode in front of the Slytherins flanked by Death Eaters in heavy silver masks. His skin as white as a kleenix and his beady red eyes were gleaming. His nostrils were nothing but slits sitting in the middle of his otherwise flat, snake like face. He made her flesh crawl. But she just stood tall and tense. Feet together, shoulders back, chin up, arms at her side. She stood at attention. Like the good little soldier she was trained to be. 

“Good afternoon,” he called out. She shivered, his voice was high, clear, and cold. His eyes slowly crawled over each and every student standing in front of him, lingering on the Slytherins longer than any of them really liked. 

“So few of you remain,” he marveled, beginning to slowly saunter up and down the rows of students, “So few of you who are truly worthy.” Alexa stared straight ahead, unblinking. 

“And yet, so many of your former peers have escaped the punishment they deserve...I’m sure you all know about the,” he paused, “Unfortunate escape of the mudbloods.”

You’re damn right they escaped Alexa thought violently. 

“Even more unfortunately,” he sighed, standing by the teachers once more, “It seems there are still some among you who question the nobility and morality of my cause.” A third Death Eater emerged from the doors, dragging a writhing young girl with him. She was screaming, her eye black, her close torn, and her yellow and black tie hanging limply from her shoulders.

“A rebel,” he announced to the assembly, “Someone who is foolish enough to believe--foolish enough to dare--to oppose my mighty cause.” Amanda Spigget was thrown to the feet of the Dark Lord. 

"A demonstration," he continued, turning to face the Slytherins, "Of how one ought to treat filth." He stared at them, his eyes roving over every face. His eyes locked with hers and something changed in them she couldn’t pinpoint. He pulled out his wand. Alexa was breathing heavily. Her hands clenched into fists and her wand was so tempting in her pocket. Draco looked sideways at her, the fear and repulsion evident on his face. 

"Don't do anything," he breathed. Alexa made no response. Plan. She needed a plan. She needed a plan right now.

"CRUCIO!" Voldemort yelled. The girl let out a blood curdling scream as she writhed on the floor, her eyes rolling back in her head. There was no time for a plan. Her mind went blank and a roaring filled her ears. 

After an agonizing second, the spell was broken. Voldemort's chest was heaving as he grinned, "You see?" He prodded the twitching girl with the toe of his boot, "Nothing more than animals." He raised his wand once more, "Avada-"

"CRUCIO!" Alexa lunged forward, faster than possible, her wand directed at the evil wizard. All of the hatred she felt, all of of the misery and suffering and pain, it shuddered through her, funneling through her wand tip with such force that it nearly knocked her over. The Dark Lord fell, a desperate scream of horror bursting from his lips. He spasmed on the cold stone, his back arching as he lost control. 

"Scalpere Carne!" Snape snarled behind her. 

The spell cut off as blinding pain slashed through her back. A warm wetness overwhelmed her. Something began pouring, oozing from her back. She staggered, seeing spots.Voldemort rose, his wand gripped white knuckled in his hand. He tsked. An infuriating sound. She raised her wand, but one of the Carrows was faster. 

"Crucio!" She could see Draco's pale face as she fell. The pain was overwhelming. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't see. The world was shaking and every nerve was on fire. Was that her screaming? She couldn't tell. 

And then it stopped.

"What's your name?" Voldemort was standing over her, looking down with curiosity. 

"Go to the crows," she spat a vile mixture of blood and saliva at his feet. 

And then the pain hit again, and she screamed. Tears were dripping down her face despite how much she tried to quell them. 

"Alessandra di Angelo, my lord," Snape answered for her. She was losing blood. She needed to get out. The third year was unconscious. She needed to her. It didn’t matter what happened to Alexa, what was death to her anyways? But she had to save Amanda. 

Alexa pushed herself to her knees, panting heavily. 

"She's strong," Voldemort commented, "A pity she's so disloyal. She would have made a valuable asset."

"I hope," she spat, "I'm there when they bury your corpse."

Voldemort sighed, flicking his wand. She heard her ribs crack and she screamed as she was thrown across the room. Her head slammed on the stones and for a moment she stayed down. But she was closer to the girl now. If she could just make it a little bit farther. She was still bleeding. She could see it splattered where she had hit the ground, and smeared all across where she had been.

"Alecto, if you would?" He turned his back to her. 

"Crucio!" She wanted it to end, God she just wanted it to be over. The scream that tore from her was barely human. Her hands curved into claws as she thrashed, every nerve burning, every atom of her being exploding. She wished she was dead. 

But it stopped, and she was far from dead. She pushed herself. Onto her forearms and knees. Onto her palms and knees. Her breaths were coming in hard gasps and her arms trembled underneath her. She had to do this. By the gods she was going to do this. She looked up. She didn’t know what she expected to see. But she looked up and she looked from face to face. She looked at her friends. Theodore Nott was white and misty eyed, but his expression was blank. Pansy Parkinson was smirking. Blaise Zabini was green, he had his eyes clenched shut. And Draco was staring at her with a look of utter horror. But he didn't dare act. And then she looked at Snape, and Snape looked back. And she couldn't read his expression but it unsettled her. The Carrows were both grinning. Wildly and madly grinning. Voldemort turned back around, and was looking at her the way one would a lab experiment. His eyes met hers and he tilted his head sideways. Something was pushing at her occlumency shields. But he couldn't breach them. 

She chuckled. And then it evolved, degrading into a mad cackle that the Wicked Witch of the West would be proud of. 

"My father is anxious for your soul, mortal." she spat, "And he’s getting tired of waiting," and then with the last bit of strength she had, she threw herself at the young girl grabbing a fist full of her jumper as they were both swallowed by shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! So just to let y’all know, the time travel is probably going to happen sometime around chapter seven or eight. Also! I’m making a playlist for the fic if you have any songs you feel like I should add, let me know :) There’ll be a link to the songs so far in my bio. Also! I added a timeline and some other links.


	5. Click Boom and it Happened

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alexa makes a grand exit.

Alexa was barely aware of the screams around her as she and Amanda hit the stone floor significantly harder than she had anticipated. She grit her teeth and pushed herself upright, every muscle trembling. 

She cried out in pain as her ribs scraped against each other in her side, sending a shooting arc of acid through her torso. Her back was hot, too hot, and blindly she reached for it, pawing desperately, yelping when the pain spiked. She pulled her hands back and they were red, red and dripping. Everything was going dark, she couldn’t breathe. Panic clawed up her throat and choked her. There were hands on her, gripping her arms, shaking her. 

“Look at me!” she hadn’t realized her eyes were shut, “Look at me Alexa!” Groaning she forced her eyes open to find Neville’s face was inches from hers. “Lavender! Lavender get over here!” he shouted over his shoulder. “What happened?” he demanded turning his attention back to her.  
She coughed, all she could taste was metal, “I failed line up,” she croaked, “Something’s wrong with my back...ribs are broken...might have punctured something.” 

Lavender appeared in her field of vision in an explosion of curly blond hair. “Lie back,” she ordered sternly, pulling out her wand. Neville guided her so she was lying on the stone floor, and Lavender levitated her. Alexa grimaced in pain. She wasn’t sure where she was being taken but she couldn’t bring herself to care. All her attention was going to not passing out, and the spots in her vision were ever encroaching. 

“I don’t know if it’s better to put her on her stomach or her back--” Lavender said, “Neville, I need you to take her.”

“Right-” Their voices was blurry. Everything hurt, there was nothing that wasn’t pain. 

They switched, and for barely a millisecond Alexa was in freefall. But Neville’s wand was steady and he caught her as quickly as Lavender had dropped her. 

“This isn’t going to feel good,” Lavender warned her. 

“I mean, I’m having such a ball right now,” Alexa groaned. 

Lavender’s mouth twisted, and then she began murmuring under her breath. She felt her ribs shivering beneath her skin and at once they snapped back into place, grinding painfully against each other with an audible click.  
“Figlio di puttana!” Alexa hollered. But the pain in her ribs had ebbed to a dull numbness that she was grateful for. 

“Sorry!” Lavender squeaked. The girl’s hands were shaking. 

“I’m good, I’m good,” Alexa gasped.

“You’re doing great Lav,” Neville assured her. 

“I’m think I’m loosing a lot of blood though,” she added, “I would really like to do something about that.”

“On it--Neville, you can put her on the bed now. Alexa, can you sit up?” With her ribs mended her head began to clear. 

“I think so,” she replied, bracing herself. 

“I’m going to set you down,” Neville asserted. She was lowered onto a bed, and instantly Neville’s hands were there to help her up. 

“Oh merda,” she hissed. Her back was on fire. But now she could see. She was in a small alcove, separated from the rest of the room by thick white curtains. 

“Neville, can you step out, I need to get her shirt off.”Neville nodded, and exited the room. 

“It’s mostly shredded anyways,” Lavender said, stepping closer. She was right. Alexa was able to slip the shirt (and bra, dammit, that had been new) off her without pulling it over her head. It simply ripped off from the back. 

Lavender lightly ran her wand across Alexa’s shoulders, and Alexa felt the sticky warmth vanish from her body. “Oh that’s deep,” Lavender inhaled through her teeth. The witch murmured under her breath, her wand poking gently into Alexa’s skin every now and then. The warmth was returning. “It’s not healing,” panic was leaking into Lavender’s voice. 

“What?” Alexa asked, eyes widening. 

“Nothing is working,” Lavender’s brows shoved together, “I think I can stop the bleeding…” She whispered something, and the blood was once again gone from her skin. This time, however, it didn’t come back. “Alright,” Lavender took a deep breath. “I’ve cleaned it, and the blood can’t come out now. I’ll need to know what the spell was--maybe there’s a book or something…”

“Scalpere Carne, that’s what it was.” Her back still burned.

“Oh that’s not good,” Lavender said, eyes growing wide. 

“I picked up on that,” Alexa snorted. She was getting used to the pain now. She could ignore it. 

“That’s dark magic--I can’t heal it by magic. It has to be done the normal way,” Lavender’s lips were pressed together.

“I can get myself some demigod medicine from my room,” Alexa said, “Is there any way to numb this?”

“You’re not going anywhere tonight!” Lavender declared, putting her hands on her hips. 

“I’m fine-” Alexa hopped off the bed and staggered as spots filled her vision once again. “Oooh, nope, I was wrong.” She leaned back on the bed. Lavender snorted and pulled out bandages and a glass vial of something. 

"This will numb it," she said holding up the potion. With a cotton ball she began dabbing the blue gunk into the cut. Alexa sighed in relief. 

"Oh that's better," she moaned. 

"Mhm," Lavender murmured, "It's going to be tricky to cover--it's all the way from your shoulder here," she tapped Alexa's left shoulder, "To here," she tapped Alexa's right hip, just above where her pants started. "Unfortunately, the most I can do for you is make sure it doesn't get infected. For the most part, your body just has to do its thing."

Alexa nodded, "Understood." Lavender smiled, and stuck the bandages to her back in a way that ensured they wouldn't fall off. 

"I'll be right back--I'm going to get you a shirt." Lavender slipped through the white curtains. Alexa was almost entirely clear headed at this point, but physically she was exhausted. When Lavender came back and handed her a thick red sweater, she could barely keep her eyes open.

"You need to rest now," Lavender said firmly. Alexa nodded and kicked off her shoes, climbing obediently into bed, careful to lay on her side and not her back. She was asleep almost instantly. 

When Alexa awoke, some hours later, the room was entirely dark. The entire rebellion was fast asleep and, when she checked her watch, she could see why. It was after midnight. Carefully she slipped out of bed and tugged on her sneakers. She felt fine. Her back was only a dull ache and there was no sign that her ribs had even been damaged. She needed to get her things. Testing herself, she swung in and out of the shadows. She couldn't afford to pass out somewhere.

"What are you doing up?" Zachariah's sudden appearance made her jump. She swung her fist, almost hitting him square in the face. Thankfully, the wizard had leapt backwards in shock when she had struck. "Do you normally just go around hitting people?" He asked, crossing his arms. 

"You startled me," she shrugged, "And I'm just going to go get my stuff--there are some things in my trunk the Dark Lord really shouldn't have."

"Why do you call him that?" Smith asked suddenly. 

Alexa paused, "The Dark Lord? Because that's what the Slytherins call him. The nasty ones anyways, especially this year. It was important to blend in."

Smith nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking down at his shoes. "I wanted to apologize," he said, looking at her through his hair, "You risked your life to save Amanda. I owe you for that. I'm sorry I was such a prat. You do a lot for us here."

Alexa blinked, momentarily stunned by his words, "No problem--it's not--it's fine. Thank you," she wasn't entirely sure how to respond. Zachariah had made his dislike of her very open.  
"Thank you for saving Amanda," he repeated, "Archie too."

"Of course," she waved him off, "I wasn't about to let anything bad happen to them. That's what I'm here for."

Zachariah gave her a small smile, "Still. I owe you. I mean that," he offered his hand. 

She shook it, "Anytime. But I do have to go-"

"I'll cover you. Neville has me guarding you to make sure you don't do anything stupid."

Alexa humphed, "He knows me too well." The words struck her. They had been working together for months now. She trusted him. "I'll be back soon, thanks." She flashed a grin and was gone. 

She was in the boys dormitory. The first thing she had to do was let Theo and Blaise know that she wasn't dead. 

Silently she slipped through the curtains on Blaise's bed, casting a spell so they wouldn't be overheard. She shook his shoulders, and his eyes snapped open. 

"Merlin!" he gasped, pulling her into a tight hug. 

"Ow!" She hissed, jerking back, "Still damaged!"

"Sorry!" Blaise whispered, his hands still locked around her arms, "I'm so glad you're okay," he said, taking her hands in his, "What were you thinking?" He demanded, suddenly angry. 

"I thought it would be a great time to practice what the Carrows have been teaching us," she shrugged. Blaise glared. 

"Alessandra stop it. This isn't funny. You almost--you could have died." His voice broke. 

"Blaise," she said softly, "Blaise, I'm sorry." He stared at a spot on his curtains to the left of her, "Please look at me." After a moment's hesitation, he glared at her. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, squeezing his hands. "I couldn't just stand by--that's the girl I was looking for. She's back with her brother now, and they're going to be safe."

"I don't understand your damn hero complex," his voice was thick. 

"You understand it,” she countered, “You just don’t like it."

His brows pushed together, "Alexa you can't--you can't be responsible for being the only one--"

"But I can make my life something worthwhile," she asserted. 

"Can't you just take up gardening instead?" he grumbled.

Alexa snorted, "Where would the fun in that be?"

"It would be fun for me not to have a heart condition by the time I'm twenty." He groaned. 

"Nah," she laughed, "I think you’ll be fine. I've got to tell Theo. But I'll be around Blaise." She gave him a smile. Blaise sighed, and kissed her cheek. 

"Be careful," he urged, “And be gentle with Theo.” 

"Always am."

He caught her arm, “I mean it Alexa, you know how I feel about it.” Alexa looked at her hands, trying to ignore his disapproving stare. 

“I know you were in his bed again,” Blaise said. 

She scowled, “That’s not your business.”

“Yes, it is. You’re both my friends and I told you from the beginning dating him was a bad idea-”

“Are we seriously talking about this now?” she demanded. 

“Yes, because I had to listen to him mourn for hours tonight!” Blaise snapped, “You can’t keep treating him like a boyfriend. It’s not fair to him and it’s hurting him. You’ve never given him enough space to clear his head, and you’ve never given yourself enough space to move on!”

“What, I dumped him and slept with you and now you get to parent me?” her voice was tight, “Look, I take full responsibility for my actions. It was a mistake to date Theo, sure. It was a mistake to sleep with you, sure. But I don’t want to fight right now, I just came to tell you I wasn’t dead from, you know, casting an unforgivable on the Dark Lord and saving a young girl. But sure, let’s talk about how you still aren’t over me.” She regretted her words instantly as hard look settled into his eyes. That was a line she had just crossed. She knew he cared about her more than she cared about him. Well, that wasn’t necessarily true, but their care did not align. There had been a reason he had so eagerly accepted her when she came to him after the break up. It was after a quidditch party and she’d been angry and just tipsy enough. It had been a mistake. She didn’t want to hurt him. Or Theo for that matter. Her love for them was sincere and genuine. They were her only real friends at Hogwarts. They were the only people she truly trusted herself with, the only people who knew about her parents. 

“Sorry,” she exhaled, blowing air out of her cheeks. He wouldn’t look at her. “Blaise?” she said softly. 

He shook his head, “The difference between Theo and I is that I know I haven’t got a chance.” She wished it wasn’t true. But Blaise had always been a little more blunt and a little more realistic than his friends. 

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. 

“So am I,” he shrugged, his voice losing its intensity. “But it’s fine.” He was flippant. 

She pursed her lips. He was lying. “I’ll see you around Blaise.”

He nodded, waving her away. She frowned, she just wanted to make him feel better. Surely there had to be something she could say, something she could do. She reached out to him, pulling him into a hug as she buried her face in his neck. He was stiff for a moment, but just a moment, before his arms wrapped loosely around her frame, careful not to jar her wounds. 

"You are so important to me," Blaise murmured. She pulled away, kissing his cheek as she went. His eyes were tender now, and that was the way she preferred them. 

"I'll be around, I promise," she said. She never showed affection like that. Blaise might peck her on the cheek or the forehead on occasion, but she never returned it. 

She dropped into the shadows and came out on the corner of Theo's bed. 

He was awake in the dark, eyes open, face blank. He jumped at her appearance, relief washing over his face. 

"Alessandra!" he lurched upright and cradled her face in his hands, bringing their foreheads together. She closed her eyes and exhaled. His hands were smooth on her face and he smelled the same as he always did. Something woody and sweet.

But then his lips brushed hers, ever so gently. She pulled away, Blaise’s words ringing in her ears. 

"Theo," she said quietly, looking up at him.

He looked away, "Sorry" Was all he said.

"I'm sorry too," she murmured, reaching out to brush her knuckles along his cheek. Theo groaned and fell back against the bed. 

“Ignoring my stupidity,” he began, “Are you alright?"

"I'm okay," she shrugged, regretting the gesture as it pulled the bandages, "My ribs were broken but we fixed them. But the cut on my back can't be healed with magic. So we just stopped the bleeding and let it be."

Theodore winced, "I should have helped you." 

Her eyebrows shot towards her hairline, “What?”

“I should have helped you. I should be helping you,” he sat up, and ran a hand manically through his hair, “This is wrong--and I know it’s wrong. My family is in good standing and if I just stay quiet I’ll be safe, but Merlin,” he shook his head, “This is wrong. This is evil. And you got hurt and I didn’t do anything!” 

“Hey,” she grabbed his hands. Stop touching him. She could hear Blaise’s voice. 

She wanted Theodore to stay safe, but she knew once he made up his mind it was impossible to change. “It’s better that you didn’t. Dumbledore’s Army has lost their spy, but I still have you.” She winced at her wording. “You can be our eyes now.”

“How?” he demanded, “Nobody is going to trust me the way they trust you.”

“They trust me because I did something. I got all the muggleborns off the train. And I worked closely with Neville before others began defecting. I had to work to earn their trust, Theo. You can too.”

“I can do that,” he nodded, “And when comes down to it, I’m going to fight with you.” She was startled by his sudden determination and fire.

“Thank you,” she replied, unsure of what else to say. Theo had always been fairly mild. The sudden assurance of violence from him was strange. “I have to go get my stuff now,” she said, “I’ll be around.”

Theo nodded, giving her a stern, parental look, “You had better.” He and Blaise were probably the only ones who ever did anything parental to her. What a fucked up dynamic they had. 

She slipped into the girl’s dormitory. Moving quickly, she opened her trunk and pulled out the duffle bag she kept with her in case of emergency. She shoved her clothes in, summoned her toiletries from the bathroom and added them as well. Her imperial gold sica, a short sword with a wicked bend in the blade was set in its sheath and she strapped her leather holster around her waist. Devorantem, she called it. The Devourer. Th nectar and ambrosia she put at the very top of the bag. She didn’t bother with her books, but she did collect the framed picture on her nightstand.

“Alexa?” Daphne’s voice whispered in the darkness. 

Alexa jumped her hand slapping on her knife. She swung around, her eyes boring into Daphne’s. 

“You’re okay!” the other girl exclaimed, silently slipping out of bed. 

“I’m alright,” Alexa grinned. 

“That was very brave,” Daphne breathed, “I mean it was stupid, but very brave.”

“It was necessary,” Alexa shrugged. 

“It was inspiring,” Daphne shook her head, “You don’t understand. You’re doing something for the Slytherin’s who don’t agree-people are talking.”

Alexa blinked, surprised, “Oh, well. I guess that’s good?” she said. 

“It’s amazing,” Daphne’s eyes were gleaming. 

“I don’t know about that,” Alexa chuckled, “But thanks,” she smiled. 

“You should get out of here though,” Daphne glanced at Pansy’s bed, “It’s not safe. But Alexa...can I ask how…?” she seemed nervous. 

Alexa nodded, “I’m a demigod. My dad is Pluto, god of the Underworld,” she gave a half smile, glad the other girl seemed unafraid, “I’ll see you around, Daphne.”

Daphne nodded, “You will,” she assured. Alexa liked the fire in her eyes. 

That should be everything she cared about. She looked around the room, suddenly realizing that it was very likely she would never sleep in the Slytherin dorms again. It was strange. She was struck with a wave of nostalgia. This dorm, this house, it was her home as much as camp. But she had things to do, and that left no time for sentimentality...but she would see the common room one more time. 

Alexa crept down the stairs, ears perked for any sign of someone awakening. And then she heard papers shuffling, like a book being leafed through. Peaking around the corner of the banister she saw a white-blond head slumped in a chair. 

“Draco?” she called, coming into the light. 

"Alexa," Draco hissed lurching from the chair. His pale hair was glowing faintly green in the dim light, and his eyes were wide.

"Hey there Dragon," she said, pulling her bag over her shoulder, carefully avoiding the cut on her back. 

He swallowed, eyes lingering on the dagger strapped to her hip  
.  
"I thought you were dead," he said flatly. He had drawn into himself, pulling his back straight and his mouth stiff.

"Nah," Alexa said, an easy grin lighting her face, "Alive and kicking. Dad's not quite ready for me to move in yet."

Draco pursed his lips, hesitating, "I'm glad," he said finally.

Alexa blinked, "Thanks," she responded. They looked at each other for a moment. There wasn't much to say. They knew each other. Hell, they knew each other’s deepest fear. But they weren't friends. She wasn’t quite sure what had even pushed her to speak to him tonight. 

Well, Dragon-" she began, trying to escape the conflicting emotions in her head. Tonight had been too much, and she hurt.

"Why do you call me that?" he asked suddenly.

"Dragon?” she tilted her head, hoping she could bluff her way out of the slightly embarrassing topic, “It's what your name means-"

"Yeah, but you've always called me that," he said.

She had. From the train ride first year. They had been in the same compartment until he proved to be a bully.Then she had wandered off and found Theo and Blaise. 

Alexa chuckled sheepishly, "It's a demigod thing--We sort of automatically speak Latin. It translates in my head. So when you said 'Draco' I heard 'Dragon'. And I thought it was weird, but so was the idea of a talking hat telling you where you belonged," she shrugged.

Draco raised an eyebrow, staring at her for a second. But then he smiled, and abruptly they were laughing.

"All this time," he cackled, "I thought there was some sort of weird meaning."

"Nope," she snickered, "It took too long for me to figure out that wasn't your name to back out though. So I had to just go just go with it."

"How long did it take you?" he demanded, leaning against the couch.

"....Halfway through second year," she admitted, smiling.

Draco snorted, "I'm almost impressed by that."

Alexa chuckled, "Yeah well, honest mistake," she shrugged.

"Sure," he rolled his eyes.

She leaned back against an armchair and winced, it had pressed against the cut.

"You alright?" Draco asked, stepping closer.

"Yeah, fine. It's nothing, still a bit beat up. Whatever they hit me with was resistant to healing spells and potions. So I just have to let it do it's thing," she shrugged.

Draco's thin blond brows pushed together, and he crossed his arms as if to fight off a chill.

"Sorry," he said. And it hung between them.

"I wish..." he trailed off, shaking his head, "That it could have turned out different," he looked up at her.

"Yeah," she said, "Yeah, me too."

Silence.

"I've got to go...I'd rather not be caught....it wouldn't be good for you either," Alexa shifted the bag once more.

"Yeah," Draco ran his hand through his hair in a motion reminiscent of Harry Potter, "Yeah, that would be bad. Maybe I'll see you when the dust settles?" he sounded almost hopeful.

"Maybe. But I know I'll see you when the storm hits. The battle's coming, Dragon. Better be brave like one." She saw something flicker in his expression as she turned on her heel and into the shadows.


	6. A Certain Chill in the Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the time has come.

May 1, 1998

From the moment she woke up, she knew something was different. She could feel it like ice in the air, the threat of something dark coming, like death was lurking behind every corner. The presence had been growing for days now, but she seemed to be the only one who could sense it. Despite the chill that curled along the edge of her vision, she continued on with the rest of her duties. She gathered breakfast from the elves in the kitchen, she delivered it back to the room, she met with Neville and together, armed with their wands and a can of enhanced spray paint, they reapplied the graffiti in the halls while other patrols went out and did the same. She returned Neville to the room, and swept through the dorms, checking that no one was missing. She checked in with Blaise so he knew she wasn’t missing. 

Theo was, as always, waiting for her when she got back. He and Daphne had both joined the DA, as had Marigold Wvarny, Alexander Maarva, Denise Schulery, and Eloise Varnette, a group of Slytherin sixth years. The room was a bustle of activity, but when she got back it was time for lessons to begin. The seventh years had pitched together and begun teaching subjects as best they could, focusing on Defense Against the Dark Arts. Alexa herself taught hand to hand combat. While there had been a number of pureblooded wizards who had questioned the necessity of that, it had been hard to argue when she had taken Snape down with a particularly wicked roundhouse kick. 

The day had been normal, despite her previous misgivings. It was after sundown now, and nothing had happened. The portrait of the girl watched them all. Arianna Dumbledore, Neville had once told her. She didn’t know how he had gotten it out of Aberforth, but he had. She suspected the two of them were the only ones who knew. But now it seemed Arianna wanted attention. She was waving, and when she locked eyes with Alexa she bounced, frantically urging her towards the doorway she guarded. 

“Neville,” Alexa called, tilting her head towards the frantic painting. Neville nodded and fell into pace beside her, the two of them heading towards Arianna. 

“She’s in a right state,” Neville commented.

“That can’t mean anything good,” she sighed, her fingers drumming on her sica, Devorantem, strapped to her side. 

Neville chuckled, “You could try to be positive just this once,” he snorted. She shook her head, frowning. Neville’s brows pushed together, “Did you get something on demigod radio?” Demigod radio was the term Neville used for the strange premonition like quality of demigod dreams. As of late, hers had featured a lot of snakes and darkness, and an overwhelming and claustrophobic sense of green. Only once had she seen the Dark Lord, planning another trip to the castle. She had been right, and from then on her dreams had been treated seriously. 

“Nothing but the usual. I just have this feeling,” she followed him through the portrait hole, glad no one could hear them now, “Something is going to happen soon, and a lot of people are going to die.”

He grimaced, running a hand through his shaggy hair. In the dim light it made the cuts and bruises on his face stand out more. “Like you’ve seen a Grim or something?” he asked. 

“Worse,” she bit her lip, “It’s this cold feeling that just keeps getting closer. Like the world is slowly freezing.”

“Well,” Neville’s tone was lighter and she could tell it was forced, “Maybe you’re wrong this time.”

She laughed, “That would be a welcome relief, imagine the headlines, ‘freaky demigod dream actually just a freaky dream and nothing more’” Alexa shook her head, “Octavian would have a conniption.”

“Who knows,” Neville shrugged, “Maybe we’re getting close to the end of this, maybe there’ll be a fight soon.”

“Being a war vet as a teenager is not all it’s cracked up to be, just to let you know,” she shoved her hands in her pockets, her mind flashing back to Jason toppling the throne, “It’s always better to go without the fight.”

Neville clapped his hand on her shoulder, expression softening,, “I know,” he said, “I do. But-”

“I know what this will take, and there's going to be a fight. That's necessary at this point. We’ll have to make a stand, sooner rather than later. The first years are almost entirely evacuated, people have vanished at a terrifying rate.” She shook her head, “We need to get our plan finalized.” She nodded to herself, meeting his eyes, “Send a message, we’ll start gathering people in tonight.” 

Neville saluted, “Yes General!” He barked, and she rolled her eyes, bumping him with her shoulder. They’d all picked that up from her. It was an involuntary habit she had. “Oh my god!” Neville exclaimed suddenly, breaking into a run, “Harry!”

Alexa jogged to catch up with him, “Harry, like Harry Potter? I guess I wasn’t wrong then…” the last part had been grumbled under her breath, and Neville either didn’t hear her or chose to ignore her. 

He shoved the door open and leapt out, “I knew you’d come! I knew it Harry!” He pulled the chosen one into a bearhug while Harry spluttered in shock. He hugged Hermione and Ron, beaming all the while. 

“Neville, what happened to you?” Harry exclaimed, he caught sight of her and his eyes widened, “And you for that matter?” Alexa herself, while far less battered than Neville, still boasted a split lip and a deep cut through her brow. Nothing Lavender wouldn’t have been able to handle, but there weren’t enough healing potions to go around, so she wasn’t going to bother wasting them on petty injuries like hers. 

“What? This?” Neville dismissed his injuries with a shake of the head. “This is nothing, Seamus is worse.”

“Half of that is because he tried to hang curtains and they caught fire,” Alexa snorted. 

Neville laughed, “True,” he turned back to Harry, “You’ll see. Shall we get going then? Oh,” he turned to Aberforth, “Ab, there might be a couple more people on the way.”

“Couple more?” repeated Aberforth ominously. “What d’you mean, a couple more, Longbottom? There’s a curfew and a Caurwauling Charm on the whole village!”

“I know, that’s why they’ll be Apparating directly into the bar,” said Neville. “Just send them down the passage when they get here, will you? Thanks a lot.”   
Neville held out his hand to Hermione and helped her climb up onto the mantelpiece and into the tunnel, Ron followed, then Neville. 

Harry addressed Aberforth. “I don’t know how to thank you. You’ve saved our lives twice.” 

“Look after ’em, then,” said Aberforth gruffly. “I might not be able to save ’em a third time.” Aberforth had the same flair for dramatics his brother did.

“Come on Potter, up you go,” Alexa called, “Thanks Abe,” she added, giving him a salute. He snorted, waving a hand at her as he turned and left the room. Harry heaved himself up onto the mantle and through the hole, and Alexa followed, lithely climbing up behind him.

“How long’s this been here?” Ron asked as they set off. “It isn’t on the Marauder’s Map, is it, Harry? I thought there were only seven passages in and out of the school?” 

“They sealed off all of those before the start of the year,” said Neville. “There’s no chance of getting through any of them now, not with the curses over the entrances and Death Eaters and dementors waiting at the exits.” He started walking backward, beaming, drinking them in. “Never mind that stuff. . . . Is it true? Did you break into Gringotts? Did you escape on a dragon? It’s everywhere, everyone’s talking about it, Terry Boot got beaten up by Carrow for yelling about it in the Great Hall at dinner!” She rolled her eyes at that. Terry Boot was one of the smartest idiots she had ever met. 

“Yeah, it’s true,” said Harry. 

Neville laughed gleefully, “What did you do with the dragon?”

“Released it into the wild,” said Ron. “Hermione was all for keeping it as a pet—” 

“Don’t exaggerate, Ron—” 

“But what have you been doing? People have been saying you’ve just been on the run, Harry, but I don’t think so. I think you’ve been up to something.” Neville was watching them expectantly, with Alexa keeping pace at his side.

“You’re right,” said Harry. “but tell us about Hogwarts, Neville, we haven’t heard anything.” She narrowed her eyes at his lack of an answer. She didn't know why he was here, but- 

“What’s that on your arm?” Ron demanded suddenly, wand pointed at Alexa.

“She’s got a sword and that’s what you point out?” Hermione asked sarcastically. 

Alexa held up the tattoos on her arm, she hadn’t bothered hiding them after rescuing Amanda. “I’m a demigod, my dad is Pluto, god of the Underworld.” She shrugged, “We have tattoos like this.”

“Alexa’s been brilliant,” Neville beamed, “We wouldn’t have made it without her. It’s not really like Hogwarts anymore,” he continued, the smile fading from his face as he spoke. “Do you know about the Carrows?” 

“Those two Death Eaters who teach here?” Harry’s voice was indignant. 

“They do more than teach,” said Neville. “They’re in charge of all discipline. They like punishment, the Carrows.” 

“Like Umbridge?” 

“They make Umbridge look like Mary Poppins,” Alexa snorted, “The other teachers are supposed to report us to them if we do something wrong. They don’t, if they can help it.”

“You can tell they all hate them as much as we do,” Neville agreed, “Amycus, the bloke, he teaches what used to be Defense Against the Dark Arts, except now it’s just Dark Arts. We’re supposed to practice the Cruciatus Curse on people who’ve earned detentions—” 

“What?” Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s united voices echoed up and down the passage. 

“Yeah,” said Neville. “That’s how I got this one,” he pointed at a particularly deep gash in his cheek, “I refused to do it. Some people are into it, though; Crabbe and Goyle love it. First time they’ve ever been top in anything, I expect.

“Alecto, Amycus’ sister, teaches Muggle Studies, which is compulsory for everyone. We’ve all got to listen to her explain how Muggles are like animals, stupid and dirty, and how they drove wizards into hiding by being vicious toward them, and how the natural order is being reestablished. I got this one,” he indicated another slash to his face, “for asking how much Muggle blood she and her brother have got.” 

“Blimey, Neville,” said Ron, “there’s a time and a place for getting a smart mouth.” 

“You didn’t hear her,” said Neville. “You wouldn’t have stood it either. The thing is, it helps when people stand up to them, it gives everyone hope. I used to notice that when you did it, Harry.”

“But they’ve used you as a knife sharpener,” said Ron, wincing slightly as they passed a lamp and Neville’s injuries were thrown into even greater relief. 

“Doesn’t matter. They don’t want to spill too much pure blood, so they’ll torture us a bit if we’re mouthy but they won’t actually kill us.” He turned to Alexa, “Of course, she’s the real daring one here, she did a bit more than mouth off.”

Alexa laughed, “You’re hyping me up Neville,” she shook her head.

“You-know-who came to visit the castle about a two months ago,” he turned back to the three, “And he had a third year captured, he tortured her right in front of all the students. Alexa here decided she didn’t like that, and she cast the cruciatus curse on him.”

Their eyes bugged, “You didn’t,” Hermione gasped, “How are you not dead?” 

“She can walk through shadows,” Neville continued, “she got out alive and saved the girl.”

“I’ve got the scar to prove it too,” she chuckled, lifting up the back of her shirt to reveal the pink puckered flesh of the scar. 

“Bloody hell,” Ron muttered. 

“It’s not so bad really,” Alexa shrugged, “The only people in real danger are the ones whose friends and relatives on the outside are giving trouble. They get taken hostage. Old Xeno Lovegood was getting a bit too outspoken in The Quibbler, so they dragged Luna off the train on the way back for Christmas.” 

“She’s all right, we’ve seen her—”

“Yeah, I know, she managed to get a message to me,” Neville said, pulling his fake Galleon out of his pocket. “These have been great,” said Neville, beaming at Hermione. “The Carrows still haven’t rumbled how we’re communicating, it drives them mad. We used them to coordinate things, graffiti, pranks. Snape hates it.”  
“He hates it so much some of us can’t leave the Room,” she said, giving Neville a look. He nodded, sobering. 

“The Carrows seemed to know that I was behind a lot of it, so they started coming down on me hard, and then Michael Corner went and got caught releasing a first-year they’d chained up, and they tortured him pretty badly,” he looked back at them, “But it didn’t scare people off. If anything, it made them angry. With Alexa there’s always a safety net, and I think that made people brave. She can get in and out of the castle when nobody else can, and we’ve sent a lot of the younger students into hiding that way. A lot of us live in the room now.”

“You live in the Room of Requirement?” Harry asked, brows pushing together.

Neville nodded, “They knew I was behind a lot of what was going on, and we might have hung Filtch up by his ankles from the ceiling--that’s what he likes doing with the kids he catches making a mess, he’s become a real favorite of the Carrows. That’s when they decided there was only one way to stop me, I suppose, and they went for Gran.”

“They what?” said Harry, Ron, and Hermione together. It was getting spooky how they kept doing that.

“Yeah,” said Neville, panting a little now, because the passage was climbing so steeply, “well, you can see their thinking. It had worked really well, kidnapping kids to force their relatives to behave, I s’pose it was only a matter of time before they did it the other way around. Thing was,” he grinned, and Alexa couldn’t help the smile that crept up onto her face, “they bit off a bit more than they could chew with Gran. Little old witch living alone they probably thought they didn’t need to send anyone particularly powerful. Anyway,” Neville laughed, “Dawlish is still in St. Mungo’s and Gran’s on the run. She sent me a letter” he clapped a hand to the breast pocket of his robes, “telling me she was proud of me, that I’m my parents’ son, and to keep it up.” 

“Cool,” said Ron, grinning.

“Yeah,” said Neville happily. “Only thing was, once they realized they had no hold over me, they decided Hogwarts could do without me after all. I don’t know whether they were planning to kill me or send me to Azkaban, either way, I knew it was time to disappear.”

“But,” said Ron, looking thoroughly confused, “aren’t—aren’t we heading straight back into Hogwarts?”

“’Course,” said Neville, “You didn’t think we’d give up that easy, did you? You’ll see. We’re here.” He lead them down the short flight of stone steps and pushed the door open. “Look who it is! Didn’t I tell you?” 

As Harry emerged into the room beyond the passage, there were several screams and yells: “HARRY!” “It’s Potter, it’s POTTER!” “Ron!” “Hermione!” The three seemed befuddled and overwhelmed by colored hangings, of lamps and many faces. The next moment, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were engulfed, hugged, pounded on the back, their hair ruffled, their hands shaken, by the fifty plus people who called the room home. 

She could understand why they were overwhelmed, the Room had expanded itself to truly enormous proportions. Multicolored hammocks were strung from the ceiling and from a balcony that ran around the dark wood-paneled and windowless walls, which were covered in bright tapestry hangings: with the gold Gryffindor lion, emblazoned on scarlet; the black badger of Hufflepuff, set against yellow; and the bronze eagle of Ravenclaw, on blue; the silver serpent of Slytherin, sticking against green; and finally the deep purple of Camp Jupiter and New Rome, emblazoned with a gold laurel and the letters SPQR. One section of the room was curtained off, being used as a makeshift infirmary, another featured a heavily padded floor, where they taught Defense, both magical and physical. Doors lead to the bathrooms and showers. There were bulging bookcases, a few broomsticks propped against the walls, and in the corner, a large wooden-cased wireless.

“Surpassed itself, hasn’t it? The Carrows were chasing me, and I knew I had just one chance for a hideout: I managed to get through the door and this is what I found! That was towards the beginning of the year, but as time went on a lot of us found the need to have a safe space. Pomfrey wasn’t allowed to patch us up so we started our own infirmary,” Neville gestured to the curtains, “We started holding D.A. meetings again, learning and teaching ourselves how to fight. And then it kind of became our own bunker, a lot of us live here now.”

“And the Carrows can’t get in?” asked Harry, looking around presumably for the door. 

“No,” said Seamus, grinning through his swollen cheeks, “It’s a proper hideout, as long as one of us stays in here, they can’t get at us, the door won’t open. It’s all down to Neville. He really gets this room. You’ve got to ask it for exactly what you need—like, “I don’t want any Carrow supporters to be able to get in—and it’ll do it for you! You’ve just got to make sure you close the loopholes! Neville’s the man!” 

“It’s quite straightforward, really,” said Neville modestly. “I’d been in here about a day and a half, and getting really hungry, and wishing I could get something to eat, and that’s when the passage to Hog’s Head opened up. I went through it and met Aberforth. He’s been providing us with food, because for some reason, that’s the one thing the room doesn’t really do.”

“Neville stop being so modest, you’re brilliant,” Alexa nudged his shoulder with her own.

“Tell us what you’ve been up to, though,” said Ernie. “There’ve been so many rumors, we’ve been trying to keep up with you on Potterwatch,” He pointed at the wireless. “You didn’t break into Gringotts?”

“They did!” said Neville. “And the dragon’s true too!” There was a smattering of applause and a few whoops; Ron took a bow. 

“What were you after?” asked Seamus eagerly

Harry opened his mouth to respond when suddenly his eyes went blank, growing wide. His face was still for only a second before he swayed, his skin gone icey white. Ron grabbed him and held him up as Harry’s face twisted into an expression that could only be described as agony. 

“His soul looks funny,” she muttered to Neville. Her friend’s eyes went wide, but Harry seemed to pull out of whatever fit he was having, sweat dripping down his temples. 

“Are you alright, Harry?” Neville was saying. “Want to sit down? I expect you’re tired, aren’t—?” 

“No,” said Harry. He looked at Ron and Hermione, and they seemed to be communicating without words. Alexa did not like it. “We need to get going,” he said, and Alexa narrowed her eyes. 

“What are we going to do, then, Harry?” asked Seamus. “What’s the plan?” 

“Plan?” repeated Harry. His voice was weak as he spoke,“Well, there’s something we—Ron, Hermione, and I—need to do, and then we’ll get out of here.”

Nobody was laughing or whooping anymore.

Neville looked confused. “What d’you mean, ’get out of here’?”

“We haven’t come back to stay,” said Harry, rubbing his scar, “There’s something important we need to do—”

“What is it?” 

“I—I can’t tell you.”

There was a ripple of muttering at this: Neville’s brows contracted. “Why can’t you tell us? It’s something to do with fighting You-Know-Who, right?”

“Well, yeah—” 

“Then we’ll help you.”

“You’re not planning on fighting,” Alexa accused, “We’ve got a whole army on standby, an army we’ve spent months preparing--not just the one you see here but people on standby all around the country, and you’re going to run off and disappear again.” There was muttering behind her, and Neville, normally the one to mediate her temper, only looked at Harry in disappointment. 

“You don’t understand,” Harry said, eyes growing wide, “We—we can’t tell you. We’ve got to do it—alone.” 

“Why?” asked Neville, crossing his arms.

“Because. . . ” Harry seemed to be fumbling for words, “Dumbledore left the three of us a job,” he said carefully, “and we weren’t supposed to tell—I mean, he wanted us to do it, just the three of us.” 

“We’re his army,” said Neville. “Dumbledore’s Army. We were all in it together, we’ve been keeping it going while you three have been off on your own— ”

“It hasn’t exactly been a picnic, mate,” said Ron. 

“Because being here has?” Alexa snapped. Neville looked at her and she quieted, crossing her arms.

“I never said it had, but I don’t see why you can’t trust us. Everyone in this room’s been fighting and they’ve been driven in here because the Carrows were hunting them down. Everyone in here’s proven they’re loyal to the cause.”

“Everyone here is ready to fight,” Alexa continued, “We’ve been waiting for your cue.”

“Look,” Harry began, but he was interrupted when the door behind them opened. 

“We got your message, Neville! Hello, you three, I thought you must be here!” Luna Lovegood and Dean Thomas emerged from the tunnel. Seamus gave a great roar of delight and ran to hug his best friend. 

“Hi, everyone!” said Luna happily, walking over and hugging Alexa warmly,. “Oh, it’s great to be back!” 

“Luna,” said Harry distractingly, “what are you doing here? How did you— ?” 

“I sent for her,” said Neville, holding up the fake Galleon. “I promised her and Ginny that if you turned up I’d let them know. We all thought that if you came back, it would mean revolution. That we were going to overthrow Snape and the Carrows.”

“Of course that’s what it means,” said Luna brightly, “Isn’t it, Harry? We’re going to fight them out of Hogwarts?”

“Listen,” said Harry panic evident in his voice, “I’m sorry, but that’s not what we came back for. There’s something we’ve got to do, and then—”

“You’re going to leave us in this mess?” demanded Michael Corner. 

“No!” said Ron. “What we’re doing will benefit everyone in the end, it’s all about trying to get rid of You-Know-Who—” 

“Then let us help!” said Neville angrily. “We want to be a part of it!” There was another noise behind them, and Ginny was now climbing through the hole in the wall, closely followed by Fred, George, and Lee Jordan. Ginny gave Harry a radiant smile and Alexa almost had to laugh at the dumbstruck expression on his face. 

“Aberforth’s getting a bit annoyed,” said Fred, raising his hand in answer to several cries of greeting. “He wants a kip, and his bar’s turned into a railway station.” Harry’s mouth fell open. Right behind Lee Jordan came Harry’s old girlfriend, Cho Chang. More faces poured in behind her, Alexa recognized Annabell from the first day of school on the train. She guessed the others that followed her were all muggleborns, come to claim their school back. There were close to a hundred people in the room now. 

“So what’s the plan, Harry?” said George. 

“There isn’t one,” said Harry, still seeming disoriented by the sudden appearance of all these people.

“Just going to make it up as we go along, are we? My favorite kind,” said Fred. 

“You’ve got to stop this!” Harry told Neville. “What did you call them all back for? This is insane—”

“We’re fighting aren’t we?” said Dean, taking out his fake Galleon.

“The message said Harry was back, and we were going to fight! I’ll have to get a wand, though—” 

“You haven’t got a wand—?” began Seamus. 

The room had erupted into chaos and Alexa and Ginny exchanged a look. Hand on her hip, Ginny raised her wand, and a nearly deafening boom shook the room. All parties were silent. 

“Whether it’s what you came here for or not, tonight is the night,” Alexa’s voice rang clear through the room, met with cheers. She turned to Harry, “We had already called them here before we found you. Hogwarts isn’t just yours, Harry. We’ve been fighting just to survive here for months, and we’re ready to take back the castle. 

We all have a right to fight for our homes and our loved ones. How can we help you with the task Dumbledore gave you?” she asked.

Harry stared at her, open mouthed, eyes wide. 

“You don’t have to do everything alone, mate,” Ron said, nudging him. Harry swallowed hard, and snapped out of his trance. 

“There’s something we need to find,” Harry said. “Something—something that’ll help us overthrow You-Know-Who. It’s here at Hogwarts, but we don’t know where. It might have belonged to Ravenclaw. Has anyone heard of an object like that? Has anyone ever come across something with her eagle on it, for instance?”

He looked hopefully toward the Ravenclaws smattered about the room. 

“Well, that’s her lost diadem. I told you about it, remember, Harry? The lost diadem of Ravenclaw? Daddy’s trying to duplicate it,” Luna spoke up from where she was perched on the arm of Ginny’s chair. 

“Yeah, but the lost diadem,” said Michael Corner, rolling his eyes, “is lost, Luna. That’s sort of the point.”

“When was it lost?” asked Harry.

“Centuries ago, they say,” said Cho, “Professor Flitwick says the diadem vanished with Ravenclaw herself. People have looked, but,” she appealed to her fellow Ravenclaws. “nobody’s ever found a trace of it, have they?” They all shook their heads. 

“Sorry, but what is a diadem?” asked Ron. 

“It’s a kind of crown,” said Terry Boot. “Ravenclaw’s was supposed to have magical properties, enhance the wisdom of the wearer.” 

“Yes, Daddy’s Wrackspurt siphons—” But Harry cut across Luna. “And none of you have ever seen anything that looks like it?” They all shook their heads again. Harry looked at Ron and Hermione and his own disappointment was mirrored back at him. Alexa could only wonder at why the diadem was so important to them, but her mind quickly strayed from the thought. 

Cho spoke again. “If you’d like to see what the diadem’s supposed to look like, I could take you up to our common room and show you, Harry. Ravenclaw’s wearing it in her statue.”

“I know it’s not much of a lead,” Harry said, looking between the crowd and his friends, “But I need to go see the statue.”

“I can take you,” Cho said, rising. 

“No, Luna can take him,” Ginny said rather fiercely, cutting the other girl off. 

“Oooh, yes, I’d like to,” said Luna happily, and Cho sat down again, looking disappointed. 

“How do we get out?” Harry asked Neville. 

“Over here.” He lead Harry and Luna into a corner, where a small cupboard opened onto a staircase. “It comes out somewhere different every day, so they’ve never been able to find it,” he said. “Only trouble is, we never know exactly where we’re going to end up when we go out. Be careful, Harry, they’re always patrolling the corridors at night.”

“No problem.” said Harry. “See you in a bit.” With that, he and Luna vanished through the cupboard.


	7. Rise Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it is the beginning of the end.

May 1, 1998

“Alright everybody, look alive!” Alexa yelled, “I want everybody to break into your cohorts,” she turned to the new arrivals, “You lot, find a group and stick to them, your team leaders will brief you. No more than ten per group.” There must have been eighty people in total, counting them. 

“Medical team stays here on standby. We have eight floors here, and three towers we can access.” Alexa and Neville moved to stand by the map they kept pinned to a cork board on the wall. Each level was featured, and next to them was the patrol schedule. “Maarva, Flitwood, you two take the North Tower, Creevy and Collins, you take the West, Vane and Varnette, take the Astronomy Tower. Go in from the 8th floor, keep a look out. Keep us updated on the coins. Team Mckinnon and Longbottom, divide up and escort them. Make sure the 8th floor is secured, and then Longbottom, report to the Great Hall--Neville will be there waiting, McKinnon, move to take the second floor as soon as we give the all clear.” Alexa turned towards Neville, nodding to him.

“Team Potter, you take the seventh floor, there should be a patrol in about ten minutes, take them down. Black, you take fifth, Prewett, you take fourth, Fenwick, third--keep an eye on the covered bridge, Meadowes, second. Longbottom, you’ll be working with Bones to take the ground level.” Alexa took a deep breath, this was her strategy playing out now, although it had been Neville’s idea to name the teams after the original Order of the Phoenix members. “If there’s no patrol, proceed down to the next level, the plan is to congregate in the Great Hall.”

“Dean, you don’t have a wand,” she turned to the boy standing beside Seamus, their hands locked together, “You’re going to stay with Lavender here and help the medical team, got it? And Lavender, anyone comes through, send them to the Great Hall after Longbottom Squad.” Dean nodded, reluctantly releasing his apparently more than friend friend and joining Lavender. 

“Every team leader have a coin?” She asked. They all nodded, and she held hers up, it had taken a while but they had figured out how to make more for those who hadn’t originally been a part of the D.A. 

“This is how we’ll keep in touch. Just like we practiced guys.” She nodded, looking to Neville.

“This is what we’ve been training towards,” Neville said, “Tonight, we take back our home. Tonight we fight. And I know, I know,” he emphasized, “We can do this. Let’s kick some Death Eater ass!” She yelled, pumping her fist in the air. The crowd cheered, sparks flying into the air. “Dismissed!” Neville added, before turning to Ron and Hermione, who were watching the proceedings with wide eyes. 

The Bones appeared at her side. She had gathered the best group of hand to hand fighters she could. They were small, only six in total, but they also were the most resilient to shadow travel. There was Theo, of course, and Daphne, Zachariah, Anthony Goldstein, and Pavarti Patil.

“Start working towards ground level,” she instructed, “I need to tell McGonagall we’re on the move. She’s in the Ravenclaw tower.”  
Zachariah gave her a salute, “Ma’am yes ma’am.” he said. She rolled her eyes.

“Be careful,” she said, “I’ll meet you there.” And then she spun, stepping out in the Ravenclaw Common Room.

“I see you’ve already found our guest,” Alexa said cheerfully, examining the fallen bodies of Alecto and Amycus. 

“Miss di’Angelo!” McGonagall clutched her chest, “What are you-!?” She turned back to Harry, “Potter, I—that was very—very gallant of you—but don’t you realize—?”

“Yeah, I do,” Harry assured her. She wondered if he had been responsible for one of the Death Eaters lying at their feet. He seemed calmer than before as he said “Professor McGonagall, Voldemort’s on the way.” 

“Oh, are we allowed to say the name now?” asked Luna with an air of interest, pulling off the Invisibility Cloak. This appearance of a yet another outlaw seemed to overwhelm Professor McGonagall, who staggered backward and fell into a nearby chair, clutching at the neck of her old tartan dressing gown.

“I don’t think it makes any difference what we call him,” Harry told Luna. “He already knows where I am.” 

“You must flee,” whispered Professor McGonagall. “Now, Potter, as quickly as you can!”

“I can’t,” said Harry. “There’s something I need to do. Professor, do you know where the diadem of Ravenclaw is?”

“The d—diadem of Ravenclaw? Of course not—hasn’t it been lost for centuries?” She sat up a little straighter. “Potter, it was madness, utter madness, for you to enter this castle—”

“I had to,” said Harry. “Professor, there’s something hidden here that I’m supposed to find, and it could be the diadem—if i could just speak to Professor Flitwick—” There was a sound of movement, of clinking glass: Amycus was coming around. Before anyone could act, Professor McGonagall rose to her feet, pointing her wand at the groggy Death Eater, and said, “Imperio.”

Amycus got up, walked over to his sister, picked up her wand, then shuffled obediently to Professor McGonagall and handed it over along with his own. Then he lay down on the floor beside Alecto. Professor McGonagall waved her wand again, and a length of shimmering silver rope appeared out of thin air and snaked around the Carrows, binding them tightly together. 

“We’re taking it back,” Alexa cut in. 

“What?” McGonagall demanded, wand white knuckled in her hand. 

“The castle. We’re taking it back,” She clarified. 

“Who is we?” McGonagall demanded, turning to Alexa, lips pressed into a tight line. 

“Dumbledore’s Army,” she said, glancing at her coin once more, “There’s about a eighty of us--more are still coming though. We’re securing the floors, taking down patrols, and getting the halls safe to move through.” 

“Eighty--how is this possible. No don’t tell me,” she shook her head, “Potter,” said Professor McGonagall, turning to face him again with superb indifference to the Carrows’ predicament. “if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named does indeed know that you are here—” 

At once Harry staggered, hand rising up to clutch his famous scar, grabbing Luna to steady himself.

“Potter, are you alright?” McGonagall asked, and Harry came back.

“Time’s running out, Voldemort’s getting nearer. Professor, I’m acting on Dumbledore’s orders, I must find what he wanted me to find! But we’ve got to get the students out while I’m searching the castle—It’s me Voldemort wants, but he won’t care about killing a few more or less, not now—”’  
Alexa pulled her false galleon out of her pocket, “We’ve got the 8th level secured, and we’ve got eyes in the North, West, and Astronomy towers. We’re taking down the patrols. Once we have the corridors clear we can evacuate.”

McGonagall’s head swiveled for a moment between Alexa and Harry. “You’re acting on Dumbledore’s orders?” she asserted, looking at Harry. He nodded. Then she drew herself up to her fullest height. “We,” she looked at Alexa nodding, “shall secure the school against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named while you search for this—this object.” 

“Is that possible?” Harry asked. 

“I think so,” said Professor McGonagall dryly, “we teachers are rather good at magic, you know. I am sure we will be able to hold him off for a while if we all put our best efforts into it. Of course, something will have to be done about Professor Snape—” 

“Easy enough,” Alexa said, a small smirk on her face. 

“—and if Hogwarts is about to enter a stage of siege, with the Dark Lord at the gates, it would indeed be advisable to take as many innocent people out of the way as possible. With the Floo network under observation, and Apparition impossible within the grounds—”

“We have an evacuation route ready,” Alexa said, “Through the Room of Requirement on the seventh floor. It lets out in the Hog’s Head run by Aberforth.”

“We’re talking about hundreds of students-”

“I know, professor. We’re ready for them.”

She looked between her and Harry, something akin to pride in her eyes. Then she nodded, “We need to move.”She pointed her wand at the Carrows, and a silver net fell upon their bound bodies, tied itself around them, and hoisted them into the air, where they dangled beneath the blue-and-gold ceiling like two large, ugly sea creatures. “Come. We must alert the other Heads of House. You two had better put that Cloak back on.”

She turned to Alexa, “Where are you headed next?”

“The Great Hall, that’s where we’re meeting. We’re secure to the fifth flour.” She said, checking her coin.

“Come with me then, we’re heading that way.” 

Alexa held the coin up to her lips, “The Cat knows, Bones to Great Hall, Evac stand by.” Her coin flashed hot, and the message scrawled across its surface.  
“Let’s go,” she said, shoving it back into her pocket. She concentrated, pulling the shadows over herself much like the invisibility cloak Harry and Luna wore. McGonagall’s eyes went wide, but she only nodded once to herself. She marched toward the door, and as she did so she raised her wand. From the tip burst three silver cats with spectacle markings around their eyes. The Patronuses ran sleekly ahead, filling the spiral staircase with silvery light, as their unlikely band hurried after. They raced through the corridors, jogging to keep up with their professor’s brisk pace. Alexa kept an eye out for anyone approaching, listening carefully. Another pair of soft footsteps had suddenly joined theirs. She was about to warn McGonagall, but the elder witch noticed them first.  
“Who’s there?” she called, her hand tight around her wand.

“It is I,” said a low voice. From behind a suit of armor stepped Severus Snape. She nearly snorted. What a fucking drama queen. If McGonagall could handle it, she wouldn’t interfere. But the sight of him had her blood boiling. Her free hand rested on the hilt of her sword, her golden eyes sharp on his thin, pale face.  
“Where are the Carrows?” he asked quietly. 

“Wherever you told them to be, I expect, Severus,” said Professor McGonagall.

Snape stopped nearer, and his eyes flitted over Professor McGonagall into the air around her, as if he knew that Harry was there. 

“I was under the impression,” said Snape, “that Alecto had apprehended an intruder.” 

“Really?” said Professor McGonagall. “And what gave you that impression?” Snape made a slight flexing movement of his left arm, where the Dark Mark was branded into his skin. 

“Oh, but naturally,” said Professor McGonagall. “You Death Eaters have you own private means of communication, I forgot.”  
Snape pretended not to have heard her. His eyes were still probing the air all about her, and he was moving gradually closer, with an air of hardly noticing what he was doing. 

“I did not know that it was your night to patrol the corridors, Minerva.”

“You have some objection?” 

“I wonder what could have brought you out of you bed at this hour?” 

“I thought I heard a disturbance,” said Professor McGonagall.

“Really? But all seems calm.” Snape looked into her eyes. “Have you seen Harry Potter, Minerva? Because if you have, I must insist— ” Professor McGonagall moved faster than Alexa could have believed: Her wand slashed through the air and for a split second Harry thought that Snape must crumple, unconscious, but the swiftness of his Shield Charm was such that McGonagall was thrown off balance. She brandished her wand at a torch on the wall and it flew out of its bracket. Alexa lunged throwing her arm around Harry and Luna and made the whole lot of them intangible just in time for the torch to clatter through them, becoming a ring of fire that filled the corridor and flew like a lasso at Snape— Then it was no longer fire, but a great black serpent that McGonagall blasted to smoke, which re-formed and solidified in seconds to become a swarm of pursuing daggers. Snape avoided them only by forcing the suit of armor in front of him, and with echoing clang, the daggers sank, one after another, into the breast— 

“Minerva!” said a squeaky voice, and looking behind him, still shielding Luna from flying spells, Alexa saw Professor Flitwick and Sprout sprinting up the corridor toward them in the nightclothes, with the enormous Professor Slughorn panting along at the rear. 

“No!” squeaking Flitwick, raising his wand. “You’ll do no more murder at Hogwarts!” Flitwick’s spell hit the suit of armor behind which Snape had taken shelter: With a clatter it came to life. Snape struggled free of the crushing arms and sent it flying back toward his attackers; Alexa once again pulled them all into the shadows as it sailed through them. Snape was in full flight, McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout all thundering after him, Alexa dropping the shadows that hid her to join the pursuit. He hurtled through a classroom door, leaping over the desks and throwing himself through the glass pane of the window. 

“Coward! COWARD!” McGonagall screamed, sliding to a stop at the window sill. Alexa cursed under her breath, and pulled out her coin.

“The Bat escaped.” 

“He jumped,” said Professor McGonagall as Harry and Luna ran into the room. 

“You means he’s dead?” Harry sprinted to the window, ignoring Flitwick’s and Sprout’s yells of shock at his sudden appearance. 

“No, he’s not dead,” said McGonagall bitterly. “Unlike Dumbledore, he was still carrying a wand. . . and he seems to have learned a few tricks from his master.”  
Alexa saw in the distance a huge, batlike shape flying through the darkness toward the perimeter wall. She would get him later.  
There were heavy footfalls behind them, and a great deal of puffing: Slughorn had just caught up.

“Harry!” he panted, massaging his immense chest beneath his emerald green silk pajamas. “My dear boy. . . what a surprise. . . Minerva, do please explain. . . . Severus. . . what. . . ?”

“Our headmaster is taking a short break,” said Professor McGonagall, pointing at the Snape-shaped hole in the windows. 

“Professor!” Harry shouted, his hands at his forehead. “Professor, we’ve got the barricade the school, he’s coming now!”

“Very well. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is coming,” she told the other teachers. Sprout and Flitwick gasped; Slughorn let out a low groan. “Potter has work to do in the castle on Dumbledore’s orders. Miss di’Angelo has assembled quite an army under our very noses, and presently they are eliminating the patrols on every floor. We need to put in place every protection of which we are capable while Potter does what he needs to do. And then we fight.” 

“You realize, of course, that nothing we do will be able to keep out You-Know-Who indefinitely?” said Professor Sprout.

“Thank you, Pomona,” said Professor McGonagall, and between the two witches there passed a look of grim understanding. “I suggest we establish basic protection around the place, then gather our students and meet in the Great Hall. Most must be evacuated, though if any of those who are over age wish to stay and fight, I think they ought to be given the chance.”

“Agreed,” said Professor Sprout, already hurrying toward the door. 

“I shall meet you in the Great Hall in twenty minutes with my House.” And as she jogged out of sight, they could hear her muttering, “Tentacula, Devil’s Snare. And Snargaluff pod. . . yes, I’d like to see the Death Eaters fighting those.”

“I can act from here,” said Flitwick, and although he could barely see out of it, he pointed his wand through the smashed window and started muttering incantations of great complexity. Harry heard a weird rushing noise, as though Flitwick had unleashed the power of the wind into the grounds.  
Harry and Luna trailed after the tiny teacher, assumedly to ask about the diadem.

“We shall meet you and your Ravenclaws in the Great Hall, Filius!” said Professor McGonagall, beckoning to Harry and Luna to follow her. Alexa and her troupe followed.

They had just reached the door when Slughorn rumbled into speech. “My word,” he puffed, pale and sweaty, his walrus mustache aquiver. “What a to-do! I’m not at all sure whether this is wise, Minerva. He is bound to find a way in, you know, and anyone who has tried to delay him will be in most grievous peril—” 

“I shall expect you and the Slytherins in the Great hall in twenty minutes, also,” said Professor McGonagall. “If you wish to leave with your students, we shall not stop you. But if any of you attempt to sabotage our resistance or take up arms against us within this castle, then, Horace, we duel to kill.” 

“Minerva!” he said, aghast.

“The time has come for Slytherin House to decide upon its loyalties,” interrupted Professor McGonagall. “Go and wake your students, Horace.” He spluttered, but McGonagall powered on, giving him no chance to argue.

Alexa caught up with her, catching her arm, “The Slytherins deserve a fair chance,” she said, her voice low.

McGonagall’s eyes softened, “They will be given a fair chance,” she agreed. 

“di’Angelo!” a voice called. Alexa turned, hand on her sword, relaxing only when she saw the face of Seamus Finnigan, leader of Prewett Squad, running towards her.

“Finnigan,” Alexa, greeted, as he came to jog in pace with her. 

“Fourth floor is secure--Fenwick is getting third now, we’re almost there,” he reported, “Sprout is passing through the lower levels, so is Slughorn.”

“Good,” she raised pulled out her coin, “Everyone in the corridors report to Great Hall.” She tucked it away once more, “McGonagall, we’re heading down there!” she called. The elderly witch nodded, standing in the middle of the corridor, wand raised.

“Let’s move!” They were swiftly joined by the rest of Prewett, with Potter not far behind. 

As they ran, they met crowds of students, most wearing traveling cloaks over their pajamas, being shepherded down to the Great Hall by teachers and prefects. 

“di’Angelo!”

“I saw Patil!”

“Finnigan!” 

They paid no mind to the students, slipping in and around them to reach the Great Hall. Neville was waiting for them when they got there, standing in front of the staff table. Students were just beginning to file in, gasping and pointing as the outlaws appeared, falling into line in front of Neville.

“Lex,” Neville said, making his way over to her, “The Order of the Phoenix is arriving, you should get up there and get them organized, I’ll handle this.”  
She nodded, spun on her heel, and stepped out into a packed room.

“Miss di’Angelo!” Lupin called. She didn’t recognize everyone in the room, but his familiar face was welcome.

“Hello professor,” she said pleasantly, “Nice night for a battle, isn’t it?”

He raised an eyebrow at her dry humor, but said nothing.

Lavender was looking quite overwhelmed by the crowd, and she was trying to explain something to a tall man with earrings. Upon seeing Alexa, she pointed, directing the man towards her. 

“My name is Kingsley Shacklebolt,” he introduced himself, “Lavender tells me you’re in charge?” he had a kind face, and he shook her hand as an equal. She liked him immediately. 

“Yes sir, I’m Alexa di’Angelo, daughter of Pluto. Neville and I lead the D.A.” His eyes had gone wide at the mention of her father, but he nodded, “We’ve got about a hundred and fifty people, eighty who are students sixteen and over, the rest are alumni, all grouped into teams-”

They were interrupted by Harry and Luna bursting into the room. Harry seemed to fall in shock, stumbling back down several steps before righting himself and pushing forwards.

“Harry, what’s happening?” said Lupin, meeting him at the foot of the stairs. Harry looked around, finding her. 

She nodded, and he spoke. “Voldemort’s on his way, they’re barricading the school—Snape’s run for it— What are you doing here? How did you know?”

Oliver Wood spoke up, she only recognized him from the quidditch games, “The D.A. got in contact with the Order and called us here,” he said, grinning, “What’s the plan, Harry?”

“Alexa has it,” he said, swallowing hard. All eyes turned to her.

She stood straight, “Dumbledore’s army has taken out all the patrols on all levels. Snape has escaped, and the Carrows are incapacitated. Right now, all the students are being taken to the Great Hall. Those who can and want to, will stay and fight, everyone else will be evacuated the same way you came in. For now we’re battering down the hatches, fortifying the castle. Harry has a mission from Dumbledore. We’ve got to let him do that.”

“Everyone underaged is leaving, right?” a redheaded woman Alexa could only assume was Mrs. Weasley asked.

“There’s nobody under sixteen in the D.A.-”

“They’re just children, they can’t-” the woman’s eyes were filled with fear and fury, and she looked terrifyingly similar to her daughter in that moment. 

“We don’t have the manpower without them,” Alexa raised her voice to speak over the top of her, “We’ve been here all year fighting and being tortured, all of us have a right to fight for our home. And we need all the people we have.”

Mrs. Weasley opened her mouth and looked fully ready to argue, when there was a scuffling and a great thump: Someone else had clambered out of the tunnel, overbalanced slightly, and fallen. 

He pulled himself up on the nearest chair, looked around through lopsided horn-rimmed glasses, and said, “Am I too late? Has it started? I only just found out, so I—I—” the redhead spluttered into silence. Evidently he had not expected to run into most of his family. 

There was a long moment of astonishment, broken by Fleur, whom Alexa recognized from the triwizard tournament, turning to Lupin and saying, in a wildly transparent attempt to break the tension, “So—’ow eez leetle Teddy?”

Lupin blinked at her, startled. The silence between the Weasleys seemed to by solidifying, like ice. 

“I—oh yes—he’s fine!” Lupin said loudly. “Yes, Tonks is with him—at her mother’s—” the new Weasleys and the other Weasleys were still staring at one another, frozen. “Here, I’ve got a picture!” Lupin shouted, pulling a photograph from inside his jacket and showing it to Fleur and Harry.

“I was a fool!” Percy roared, so loudly that Lupin nearly dropped his photograph. “I was an idiot, I was a pompous prat, I was a—a—”

"Ministry-loving, family-disowning, power-hungry moron.” said Fred, stepping into the room. 

The man swallowed. “Yes, I was!” 

“Well, you can’t say fairer that that,” said Fred, holding out his hand to the man. Mrs. Weasley burst into tears. She ran forward, pushed Fred aside, and pulled the man into a strangling hug, while he patted her on the back, his eyes on his father. 

“I’m sorry, Dad.” he said. Mr. Weasley blinked rather rapidly, then he too hurried to hug his son.

“What made you see sense, Perce?” inquired George, who had followed his brother in.

“It’s been coming on for a while,” said Percy, mopping his eyes under his glasses with a corner of his traveling cloak. “But I had to find a way out and it’s not so easy at the Ministry, they’re imprisoning traitors all the time. I managed to make contact with Aberforth and he tipped me off ten minutes ago that Hogwarts was going to make a fight for it, so here I am.”

“Sorry to break up the reunion,” Alexa called, “But Fred, George, what are you doing up here?” she asked, hands on her hips.

They grinned sheepishly, “Neville said the Order was here.”

“You two!” Mrs. Weasley snapped, “Where is your sister?”

“Molly,” Kingsley placed a placating hand on her shoulder, “I fear Alexa may be right. We can’t afford not to have every hand we can.”

“We need to get to the Great Hall,” Lupin said. 

Alexa nodded, and Fred and George moved to her either side, well out of reach of their mother, “Let’s move out,” she yelled. The D.A. members followed her command immediately, while the Order was more hesitant. But they all went through. Alexa took a deep breath, and followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this time I really promise there are only a few more chapters before she goes back in time. It's gonna happen, I swear. Also! I was thinking of starting a companion piece to this--just a collection of one shots about Alexa's time at Hogwarts and Camp and maybe even before that? Maybe featuring some of her shenanigans during the war? Thoughts? Requests? Thank you so much for reading this, and your patience as I post chapters, hope you have a great day!


	8. Chapter Eight: The End of the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it seems like the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, this chapter covers most of the battle and as such it does have some semi-graphic descriptions of violence!

May 1, 1998

The enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall was dark and scattered with stars, and below it the four long House tables were lined with disheveled students, some in traveling cloaks, others in dressing gowns. Here and there shone the pearly white figures of the school ghosts. Every eye, living and dead, was fixed upon Professor McGonagall, who was speaking from the raised platform at the top of the Hall. Behind her stood the remaining teachers, including the palomino centaur, Firenze, and the members of the Order of the Phoenix who had arrived to fight. 

“—evacuation will be overseen by Mr. Filch and Madam Pomfrey. Prefects, when I give the word, you will organize your House and take your charges, in an orderly fashion, to the evacuation point.”

Alexa ducked through the crowd to find Neville, Shacklebolt, and Sprout speaking intensely. 

“We’ve got people in the towers-” Neville was saying.

“We need to get a better defense underway,” Alexa said.  
Shacklebolt nodded, “We’ll need more people up there, and the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw towers are better positioned.” 

Alexa agreed, “And the grounds? The Weasley Twins should be in charge of defending the entrances.”

“We’ll have teams on the grounds there,” Sprout said, “Neville, can you help me with the greenhouses?” 

He nodded, “I’ll have my team come with us. Alexa, The Bones should be on the grounds fighting, they’re stronger in dueling. We should send Prewett with Fred and George, I think Seamus could make anything blow up.”

“And Potter with…” The two of them rattled off a plan, glancing around the hall as they did, Shacklebolt and Sprout agreeing and adding commentary as they did. When they broke apart and Neville and Alexa moved to stand with the rest of the D.A., all rigidly standing at attention in almost straight lines (Alexa had been working on that, but they still weren’t perfect.). She felt a stirring of pride at how far they had come. She turned, facing the room. 

Many of the students looked petrified, white faced and whispering to each other. 

“If you’re at least sixteen and wish to stay and fight, your aid would be welcome,” McGonagall said, glancing down at Alexa.

“Where’s Professor Snape?” shouted a girl from the Slytherin table. 

“He has, to use the common phrase, done a bunk,” replied Professor McGonagall, and a great cheer erupted from the Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws. Alexa caught sight of Harry as he moved up the Hall alongside the Gryffindor table. As he paused, faces turned in his direction, and a great deal of whispering broke out in his wake. 

“We have already placed protection around the castle,” Professor McGonagall was saying, “but it is unlikely to hold for very long unless we reinforce it. I must ask you, therefore, to move quickly and calmly, and so as your prefects—” 

But her final words were drowned as a different voice echoed throughout the Hall. It was high, cold, and clean. There was no telling from where it came; it seemed to issue from the walls themselves. Like the monster it had once commanded, it might have lain dormant there for centuries.

“I know you are preparing to fight.” There were screams amongst the students, some of whom clutched each other, looking around in terror for the source of the sound. Alexa’s hand slapped on the hilt of her sword, hanging at her hips.“Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood.” There was silence in the Hall now, the kind of silence that presses against the eardrums, that seems too huge to be contained by walls. “Give me Harry Potter,” said Voldemort’s voice, “and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter, and you should be rewarded. 

“You have until midnight.” The silence swallowed them all again. Every head turned, every eye in the place seemed to have found Harry, to hold him frozen in the glare of thousands of invisible beams.

Then a figure rose from the Slytherin table and she recognized Pansy Parkinson as she raised a shaking arm and screamed, “But he’s there! Potter’s there! Someone grab him!”

In a flash Alexa was across the hall, poised in front of the Gryffindor table, sword drawn. And she was not alone. The Gryffindors in front of Harry had risen and stood facing, not Harry, but the Slytherins. Then the Hufflepuffs stood, and almost at the same moment, the Ravenclaws, and she was proud to say a few Slytherins as well, Blaise’s own wand pressing into Pansy’s temple. All of them, with their backs to Harry, all of them looking toward Pansy instead, she saw wands emerging everywhere, pulled from beneath cloaks and under sleeves. Harry looked as though he might actually cry. 

“Thank you, Miss Parkinson,” said Professor McGonagall in a clipped voice. “You will leave the Hall first with Mr. Filch. If the rest of your House could follow.” Most of the Slytherins filed away, Blaise Zabini and two sixth years staying. She gave Blaise a nod as he sat down. Her house was not the problem. 

“Ravenclaws, follow on!” cried Professor McGonagall. Slowly the four tables emptied. A number of older Ravenclaws remained seated while their fellows filed out; even more Hufflepuffs stayed behind, and half of remained in their seats, necessitating Professor McGonagall’s descent from the teachers’ platform to chivvy everyone under sixteen on their way. Alexa slipped back over to stand by Neville.

They flanked Shacklebolt as he stepped forward to address the crowd.

“We’ve only got half an hour until midnight, so we need to act fast! A battle plan has been agreed between the teachers of Hogwarts, the D.A., and the Order of the Phoenix. Professors Flitwick, Sprout, and McGonagall are going to take groups of fighters up to the three highest towers—Ravenclaw, Astronomy, and Gryffindor—where they’ll have a good overview, excellent positions from which to work spells. Meanwhile Remus”—he indicated Lupin—“Arthur”—he pointed toward Mr. Weasley, sitting at the Gryffindor table, and “Alexa,” he inclined his head towards her—“and I will take groups into the grounds. We’ll need somebody to organize defense of the entrances of the passageways into the school.”

“Sounds like a job for us,” called Fred, indicating himself and George, and Kingsley nodded his approval.

“Alright, leaders up here and we’ll divide up the troops!”  
Lupin, Mr. Weasley, and the professors moved to the front, while Alexa turned to address the D.A. 

“Fred and George, you’re in charge of defenses, take Prewett with you. Bones, you’ll be with me on the grounds with Lupin. Potter, go with Mr. Weasley, Mckinnon with Shacklebolt. Black to the Astronomy Tower, Meadows, go to Gryffindor. Longbottom, you’ll be with Neville and Sprout.” Next to her Kingsley nodded in agreement. 

“Marvin, Dye, and Sullivan, you’ll join Alexa’s group,” he added. She nodded at them as they joined her ranks. There were so many people seeping into her army, her friends, that she didn’t recognize. Marvin, Dye, Sullivan. They were her responsibility. How many of the others would die? How many of their names would she never know?

She watched as they all moved to their new positions, the professors adding people and gathering the students who had stayed, a strange sort of fear bubbling in her stomach. How many of them wouldn’t see the dawn? She looked from face to face, her eyes catching Theodore’s. He and Blaise were standing together, looking up at her where she stood at the elevated platform of the staff table. She could see the same fear mirrored in their eyes. This was going to be one hell of a fight. 

“Move out!” Kingsley called.

She hopped off the platform, nodding to her Bones. She fell into pace with Lupin, Kingsley and Mr. Weasley, her group following behind her in a straight line throughout the flurry of people and bodies around them. “We need to set a perimeter,” Kingsley said, as they strode through the castle and out the great oak doors. 

“The lake covers the South, We’re weakest from the North and the West. The forest in the East provides a boundary, they won’t come from that side, they’d have to go through it,” Alexa established, “That doesn’t mean we should ignore it, however.”

Lupin nodded, “I know the Forest. I can take my group to cover the East.”

“Then go there, Alexa and I will take the North, that will be where the heaviest attack will come through. Arthur, go to the West, but keep an eye open. Good luck,” he raised his voice, surveying the entire ensemble, “We will see each other again.” And they divided, Arthur and Lupin breaking off. . 

“Alright Bones let’s go!” she yelled. 

“At least it’s a nice night for it,” Zachariah said, as they marched their way to the North. 

Parvati snorted, “That’s what really matters,” she rolled her eyes. 

Marvin, a man who wasn’t young but wasn’t quite middle aged, rolled his eyes as well, scoffing at the teenagers in front of him. Dye, a positively Amazonian woman with a shock of white blond hair, gave him a sharp look and Marvin only shrugged. 

“You three,” Alexa said, watching them closely, “You’re new, so you’ll need to know. I’m a demigod, my father is Pluto, lord of the Underworld. These people who are with me are the ones who proved most resilient to Shadow Travel, which is how I get around quickly.” The three went white, but nodded. Marvin was no longer rolling his eyes. 

She and Kingsley spaced their groups out evenly in front of the castle. Alexa stood next to him, Theo on her other side, and together they waited. She could hear her friends speaking, murmuring in the darkness. Every few minutes Theo would pull out his pocket watch and check the time. 

“Five minutes,” he said. His voice sounded too loud after the silence that hung thick in the air like spoiled cream. 

“If we need to retreat,” Alexa said, “Lead them. I’ll get the rear, I can get in no matter what.”

Kingsley nodded, “Agreed.” 

They turned back to the vigil, eyes straining to look at the gate, to see through the darkness. Alexa’s eyes were keener than the mortals, and she was the first to spot them. 

“They’re here.” Was all she said. She drew her sword in her left hand, her wand held firm in her right. She could see the black cloaks surging forward. 

Beside her her comrades gripped their wands tighter. 

“It will take them a while to get through the wards,” Kingsley said. 

“One minute,” Theo added. 

“Adjuva nos, Mars,” she whispered. Theo glanced at her, something soft in his eyes. But he only nodded once and turned back towards the gate. 

 

May 2, 1998

 

There was a sudden burst of light, and then another, and another. They struck a point in the air, crackling across the surface of an invisible dome like lightning. A high, keening wail filled the air, like all of Hogwarts was screaming from the barrage of spells. 

“How long do you think that will hold?” Anthony asked.

“Not long enough,” Kingsley muttered. Five minutes passed. Ten minutes passed. The cracks in the dome were growing bigger, the lightning flashing across it lingering. And then suddenly a new beam of light, bigger than all the others struck. A single beam of pure energy driving into their defenses like Jupiter himself had decided to side against them. She could only pray that wasn’t the case. The wailing went from a keen to a screech, high enough to shatter glass. 

“Get ready!” she yelled. 

With a sound like nails scraping along a chalkboard, the dome above them cracked, the lightning fracturing through and setting the cracks ablaze. Something began to fall, drifting like burned paper from the sky. There was a roar from beyond the gate and the black cloaks surged forward, beams of light flying from their ranks. 

Kingsley yelled, wand raised, and together they charged. Alexa pushed forward, fire whipping from her wand to snap across the ranks of Death Eaters. She hit at least one, maybe two, but the rest was blocked. She spun, nimbly dodging a beam of red, ducking to dodge a streak of green. They were intermingled now, squaring off one against two and five against ten and ten against twenty. They were hopelessly outnumbered. They would retreat. But they could thin them out. 

Alexa dove through the crowd, stabbing her sword through the chest of a silver masked man, shooting a cutting hex in the face of another. She spun again, swinging her sword deep into the neck of another. She pushed, plowing her way through body after body. She saw three masked figures press Theo, pushing him back farther and farther. She heard one yell, a piercing cry of crucio even through all the screaming. Theo fell, a croaking howl escaping his lips. Without a sound she appeared behind his first attacker, a fist full of his hair held viciously in her hand as she jerked his head up. Her blade slid viciously across his throat. She tossed his body to the ground, crimson bubbling from his lips, and ran, diving the point of her crooked blade deep into the gut of the second. She dragged it forward, a kind of sick pleasure rising in her as his organs began to slip through the great gash in his belly. She could feel his blood splatter on her like fire against her skin. The third had stopped his attack, and was watching her in dumbfounded horror as she advanced. She grinned, and drove Devorantem through the center of his chest with as much force as she could. The sword cut through him like he was nothing, and his body hung limp from the bend. She pressed her foot against his chest and pried her sword out. She turned to Theo, who was staring up at her from the ground, eyes wide and full of fear. Their gazes locked and she understood in that single second that it was not the Death Eaters or even Voldemort he was afraid of in that moment. It was her. She raised her wand as another Death Eater fired a spell at her, and it bounced off the shield she raised. She ran, leaping over Theo and kicking the man square in the chest. He gasped, staggering, and in a flash of green light he was gone. 

She didn’t know how much time had passed. It felt like an eternity, but it had likely been only an hour. She couldn’t feel her limbs, there was only the roar in her ears and the sword in her hand. She was a child of Rome and by the gods these people were not going to get her home without a fight. Anthony was gone, she could feel that. So was Marvin and Sullivan. And more she couldn’t even name. 

“Giants!” a terrified cry came. 

“Retreat!” Kingsley’s voice permeated the air.

“Get to the Castle!” Alexa yelled, delivering one more final vicious swipe to the Death Eater fighting her. He fell to the ground and she looked over her shoulder, watching her beaten and bedraggled companions make a break for the great oak doors that had once welcomed them.

“Hold back!” someone from the other side cried.

Alexa stayed right where she was, watching every face as it streaked by. They were so few now. She saw Lupin’s team coming in, his run almost animalistic as he bounded through, she saw Arthur streak by as well. The doors slammed shut behind him, and she could hear the shuddering locking mechanisms close from where she stood, vibrating through the Earth. There was nobody else coming, and a quick check showed there was nobody alive left outside either. She vanished into the shadows, emerging in the entry hall with the other first line. 

“Get to the Great Hall,” Kingsley said, voice hoarse. Alexa looked around. By some miracle, it seemed like all but Anthony had survived her original Bones squad. He would be honored when this was over, she would make sure of it. 

The castle shuddered, moaning as a barrage of dark magic tried to poison the ancient stones. They ran, the only sound from them the pounding of feet on stone. There were people everywhere, swarming from one end of the castle to the other. Every now and then, the stones would quake, dust falling from somewhere above. The castle was holding for now, she thought, as a parade of stone knights marched by, but for how long?

“I need to find Neville,” she said, as they reached the Hall, “Theo,” she turned to her friend, “take care of anyone who is injured. I’ll be back.” The castle shuddered once more, and a low droning sound filled the air. At once the sound stopped and somebody screamed.

“They’re in,” Parvarti whispered, gripping Daphne’s arm. 

“This fight has only just started,” Lupin said grimly, looking at the students he used to teach. She wondered what he was thinking, if, as he looked at their faces, he was seeing the thirteen year olds he had taught how to fight boggarts. She wondered if he realized how much their greatest fears had all changed. 

Alexa closed her eyes for a moment, “They’re breaching the North battlements.” She looked at them grimly, “Get to higher ground, get to the windows, try and get as many of them out as you can before they get in. They brought their own giants. Theo, you’re in charge, I need to check in with Neville.” And she took off out the Great Hall. Flashes of light had filled the corridor, and a heavy dust sat in the air, stinging her eyes and lungs. There were Death Eaters clambering in through a giant fist shaped hole in the wall, and she shot a blast of fire at them. The fire wasn’t what got them away, how ever. Tarantulas the size of horses began pouring through the hole. Not tarantulas, she corrected herself, leaping over fallen bricks as a small horde began to chase her, acromantula. It seemed whatever battle she fought in she was destined to fight monsters. Neville was in the North tower, was was Sprout and Seamus and others she didn’t recognize.  
She spun, crying “Confringo!” and three of the beasts were blasted back, surely dead. She certainly didn’t have enough time to check before another leapt over it’s fallen brothers, quite nearly landing on her. She had her sword ready, and slashed out, dislodging several legs. The thick, viscous fluid that oozed from the writhing stumps smelled like rotting fruit, and almost made her gag, but she finished the job quickly, cracking through its exoskeleton to the thick meat below. It did not get back up. She was almost to the North tower when the passageway in front of her exploded, smoke and rubble flying everywhere. Alexa was knocked flat, and thankfully so was the spider. She could feel a cut on her arm dripping from where a stone had skid along her skin. She was gasping, desperately trying to suck air back into her lungs and hear through the ringing in her ears. 

Another of the acromantula was crawling towards her, clearly disoriented but not enough to deter it from it’s victim. It was shot away with a blast from the side, and she turned to see Blaise, disheveled but as handsome as ever, even bruised and bleeding. He rushed to her, pulling her to her feet, catching her weight when she staggered. 

“I’m fine,” she said, forcing herself to stand on her own. 

“Run!” was Blaise’s only response as one final acromantula appeared from the haze of smoke and ash. He pulled her along, and the two bolted down the corridor, the spider hot on their heals. They scrambled up the stairs, they were almost there, they were so close, she could see the door. 

Alexa threw the wooden door open and Blaise scrambled through. She twisted, spinning around to slam her hilt on the acromantula’s face. It hissed as one of its fangs cracked and fell, thick yellow venom oozing from the wound. She kicked hard, knocking it backwards and out the door. Ignoring the stunned faces of her allies, she lunged after it, slamming her sword into it’s head. The tip of the blade hit the stone floor with enough force that sparks flew. The beast let out an unearthly scream and flailed. Alexa had to dive out of the way as its powerful legs twisted like gnarled roots. She wasn’t fast enough, and one foot struck her across the face with enough force that she tasted metal. 

And then it was still. 

She rose, and pulled her dripping, bloodied blade out of the creature and strode into the room. She spat crimson and wiped the blood from her lips on the back of her hand. With weary golden eyes she surveyed the gathering. Neville, Seamus, McGonagall, and Flitwick stared at her.   
She snorted, “How’s everybody’s day going?”

Seamus laughed. It sounded strange after so much screaming, “I’ve had better.”

Tight smiles passed over the faces of the others, mostly members of Sprouts own house. 

“They’re in the castle-” Neville began. 

“Minerva…” Flitwick called from the window, cutting him off. . They all turned, watching in silence as the broken glass became frosted, ice snaking it’s way up the jagged pane. 

“Dementors,” Neville breathed, going white. 

Alexa saw them--her eyes could see their black cloaks against the dark of the night. There were hundreds of them. 

“Shite,” Seamus said. 

“Indeed,” Flitwick agreed.

“I’ve got it,” Alexa said, gripping her wand more tightly. 

All heads turned to her, “What?” Neville demanded.

“You’re crazy!” Seamus’s accent was thicker than ever.

“They don’t affect me.” She furrowed her brow and looked at the impending storm cloud of monsters approaching, “I can handle it.” That wasn’t necessarily true, the did affect her, but much less than the others. Blaise knew that, but he only gave her a stern look. 

“If you can, we’re certainly not going to argue,” McGonagall said, although she seemed unsure. 

“You sure about this, Lex?” Neville asked brows pushed together. 

“Oh yeah,” she nodded, rolling her neck, “No problem.” She flashed a smile. 

Neville shook his head, and clapped her on the back, “Good luck,” he said.  
She nodded took a deep breath, and jumped out the tower window. She dropped into the shadows right before she hit the ground. Without missing a beat she stepped out in front of the dementors. The grounds had been cleared of Death Eaters the moment they appeared. The castle was behind her, smoke curling from cracked windows and the booms of explosions shook the stone. This was her home. And as she looked up at the hundreds of dementors swirling towards the castle the rage that had been burning in her chest exploded. She walked forward, breaking into a run to meet them. 

“Stop!” She shouted, sword drawn and pointed. She concentrated, focusing on the shadows swirling around her, focusing on the souls still sitting, screaming from whatever stomach the dementors had. She could feel them pulsing, shuddering, trying to escape before they were extinguished. She raised her other hand, palm forwards. She could feel the shadows, and she pulled them up around her, making a wall of impenetrable space. They surged forward, pushing against it. Her feet slid backwards through the dirt, and she grit her teeth, fighting to hold her ground. She was not going to let the monsters into her home.   
She screamed, taking a step forward and shoving the dementor army back. She exhaled, sweat dripping down her temples, stinging the open cuts on her face. She looked up, and found herself staring directly into the hooded face of a dementor. It was so close she could see through the thick darkness under the hood, she could see the black hole it had instead of a face, she could smell the rot of its breath. And she could see the tiniest twinkling light in the darkness, past its gaping maw: a soul that had not yet been fully consumed. 

She closed her eyes, and the souls within the dementors lit up like candles in the night in her mind’s eye. She focused, her body shaking, the earth rumbling under her feet, and inhaled, pulling the souls to her. She gasped as they were ripped from the dementors, flying out like so many shooting stars, and slammed into her chest. One after another, hundreds and hundreds of souls crashed into her. The dementors began dropping like enormous flies, falling to the ground with muffled thumps, dissolving into glittering black pools of dust. The last dementor fell to the ground, and Alexa dropped to her knees.   
She felt her temperature climbing, like she might catch fire. Everything was moving too fast, the earth was still shaking. With a yell she slammed her sword into the ground. A crack appeared in the cobblestone, black and unholy. 

“To me!” she screamed. A horde of skeletons crawled out by the dozen, wearing tattered uniforms from who knew which wars. Their teeth chattered as the final soldier crawled out, and they stood in neat rows. She exhaled, her temperature returning to normal. With some of her excess soul energy burned off she rose, and her soldiers stood at attention. 

“Defend Hogwarts!” she yelled. Even after that her body felt renewed, filled with energy. She felt unstoppable. She ran with the skeletons, and she watched them as they dispersed, utterly unkillable and utterly without fear. 

She surged after them, breaking back through the entrance hall, the doors now wide open she threw curses left and right, blasts passing so close by them they singed her hair and nearly knocked her back. She spun, firing back at the Death Eater targeting her, stepping in and out of the shadows as she advanced close enough to separate his head from his shoulders. She pointed her wand at a nearby tapestry and it flew to life like an evil Disney character, soaring to coil around another’s face, smothering him. With another flick of her wand the tapestry was ripped away, transforming into a snake which she hurled at the third Death Eater behind her.   
But he was ready for her, and the snake disappeared into smoke with a flick of his wand, a nasty hex dispersing it just as quickly. Alexa leapt to the side, dodging nimbly, and firing back an equally nasty jinx that exploded against the stone wall behind him. With a yell, Alexa ran towards the man, dropping into a somersault to avoid a beam of green. She slashed her wand through the air and the stones at his feet began to melt, his feet sinking rapidly. He spat a counter curse and conjured a flock of vicious looking birds, who swarmed towards Alexa with gleaming beaks. She cast them away with a wave of her wand, and they went up in flames that she sent careening towards him. Slipping into the shadows, she appeared behind him, but he was ready for her, spinning around and blasting her backwards. Alexa went flying, hitting her head against the stone wall with an audible crack. Her eyes watering and the world spinning, she raised her wand, shooting blindly at the man with a cutting jinx. The exhaustion from earlier, from all the shadow traveling, was creeping in, and she could feel the heaviness in her bones. With shaking legs, she pushed herself to her feet, ducking behind a pillar as another glimmering green streak came flying towards her. 

“Little halfbreed,” the man crooned, “Come out little halfbreed-” his last words were choked by a scream and she heard the thud of him hitting the ground. Hardly daring to believe it she looked around the pillar, only to lock eyes with a terrified and soot-stained Draco Malfoy, holding the wand of the man who had been fighting her. He was the only one in the isolated hallway they stood in. He looked at her for one split second, eyes wide and chest heaving...and then he turned and bolted back the way he came. 

She forced herself to move, running down the corridor he had vanished through, sword and wand raised. She found herself in the midst of duels, Death Eaters, masked and unmasked, and students weaving around each other magic glittering malevolently in the air amongst the dust. She could see Dean had won himself a wand, and he was facing off against someone she recognized from the papers. Parvarti was there, so was the remaining Bones squad. She pushed into the shadows, coming out to stun the one facing Zachariah, and spun, back into the shadows and back behind Daphne’s foe, ending him with a quick jab of her wand. Boils puffed up on his skin and he fell to the ground, scratching with bloodied fingers as he screamed. The boils erupted in a shower of blood and pus, and he fell to the floor and did not move again. 

A screech of delight from above stopped her in her tracks, and she looked up to find Peeves, arms full of writhing Snargaluff pods which he proceeded to drop onto the heads of Death Eaters. However, one of the tubers hit a point in the air, coiling around somebody who wasn’t there. 

“Someone’s invisible there!” shouted a masked Death Eater, pointing.

Dean made the most of the Death Eater’s momentary distraction, knocking him out with a stunning Spell; the Death Eater he had been fighting attempted to retaliate, and Parvati shot a Body Bind Curse at him.

She followed after the bobbing Snargaluff, sure it was Harry Potter and his rumored invisibility cloak. She ran up the marble staircase, stopping short at the sight of a stunned Death Eater and a bewildered bloody Draco sitting next to him. He stared up at her, unsure how to proceed, eyes locked on her blood stained sword in her hand. 

“Are you alright?” she asked, offering her hand. His eyes went wide, but he took it.

“I think I’ve made a mistake,” he said, letting her haul him to his feet. 

“This is your last chance for a change of heart,” she shrugged, looking down the stairs onto the battle below. 

“Glad I figured it out then,” he said quietly. He looked as though he might vomit. 

“Will you help us?” she asked, grabbing his shoulder. He was whiter than she had ever seen him, and he was shaking like a leaf, staring down without seeing at the violence below. “Draco,” she gave him a little shake and he snapped out of it, looking at her with fear and something akin to determination. 

“Yes.” He nodded once, as if trying to convince himself. 

She nodded, “What can you tell me about the attack?” she asked, pulling him forward. 

“Traitor!” the Death Eater had woken up, and was struggling to his feet, “Bloody traitor-!”  
Draco lunged forward, pointing his stolen wand at him, yelling “Stupefy!” so viciously the man flew backwards off of the landing and fell into the dark twists of staircases below. Chest heaving, he looked at her, and nodded.

Together they took off running, down the rest of the stairs, and Alexa found herself once more in the entrance hall. There were more duelers all over the stairs and in the hall. Death Eaters everywhere Alexa looked: Yaxley, close to the front doors, in combat with Flitwick, a masked Death Eater dueling Kingsley right beside them. Students ran in every direction; some carrying or dragging injured friends. A stunning spell narrowly Neville, who had emerged from nowhere brandishing armfuls of Venomous Tentacula, which looped itself happily around the nearest Death Eater and began reeling him in. Alexa kicked the legs out from under another Death Eater, making quick work of him with her sword. Beside her Draco cast curse after curse, taking down his former comrades with a terrifying efficiency. The fought back to back, dueling Death Eaters simultaneously. 

Glass shattered on the left, and the Slytherin hourglass that had recorded House points spilled its emeralds everywhere, so that people slipped and staggered as they ran. Two bodies fell from the balcony overhead as they reached the ground a grey blur that Alexa momentarily took for an animal sped four-legged across the hall to sink its teeth into one of the fallen. 

“NO!” a voice shrieked, there was a deafening blast and Fenrir Greyback was thrown backward from the feebly struggling body of Lavender Brown. He hit the marble banisters and struggled to return to his feet. Then, with a bright white flash and a crack, a crystal ball fell on top of his head, and he crumpled to the ground and did not move. 

“I have more!” shrieked Professor Trelawney from over the banisters. “More for any who want them! Here—” And with a move like a tennis serve, she heaved another enormous crystal sphere from her bag, waved her wand through the air, and caused the ball to speed across the hall and smash through a window. At the same moment, the heavy wooden front doors burst open, and more of the gigantic spiders forced their way into the front hall. Screams of terror rent the air: the fighters scattered, Death Eaters and Hogwartians alike, and red and green jets of light flew into the midst of the oncoming monsters, which shuddered and reared, more terrifying than ever. 

“Oh fuck,” Alexa cursed, as no less than twelve of the monsters came directly towards her. 

“I think they like you!” Draco yelled, as they bolted up the steps. Alexa had a plan, and she stood at the top landing, watching them as they frantically scuttled up the steps. 

“Wait!” she said, as Draco aimed his wand.

“Wait?!” he screamed, looking at her like she was quite mad. They were a mere three steps away when Alexa raised her wand and blasted the stairs away, sending the acromantula crashing down to be crushed in the rubble. 

Hagrid had come thundering down the stairs at the opposite end of the hall, brandishing his flowery pink umbrella. “Don’t hurt ’em, don’t hurt ’em!” he yelled. 

“HAGRID NO!”   
Harry appeared from nowhere, Ron and Hermione not far behind, and he sprinted, bending double to avoid the curses illuminating the whole hall. 

“HAGRID, COME BACK!” But Hagrid vanished amongst the spiders, and with a great scurrying, a foul swarming movement, they retreated under the onslaught of spells, Hagrid buried in their midst. Godsdammit Hagrid.

“HAGRID!” Harry screamed, running out the front steps. 

The ground shuddered suddenly, and Alexa looked up and fought back a scream. A Giant, surely forty feet high, its head hidden in shadow, nothing but its treelike, hairy shins illuminated by light from the castle doors. With one brutal, fluid movement, it smashed a massive fist through an upper window, and glass rained down upon Harry, forcing him back under the shelter of the doorway. 

“Come on,” Alexa groaned. She leapt of the landing, dripping into the shadows to avoid impact and stepping out next to Ron and Hermione. 

“Oh my—!” shrieked Hermione, as she and Ron caught up with Harry and gazed upward at the giant now trying to seize people through the window above. 

“DON’T!” Ron yelled, grabbing Hermione’s hand as she raised her wand. “Stun him and he’ll crush half the castle—”  
Alexa paid them no mind, and ran towards the beast, stabbing it viciously in the toe. 

“Are you insane?!” Ron screamed. 

“Yeah!” Alexa yelled in response, dancing out of the way as the beast gave an ear popping roar, and turned to look at her. It’s face was misshapen and lumpy, like what would happen if the deformed guy from the Goonies had decided to take a nap using the highway as his pillow. His teeth were jagged and broken, yellow and stained, and as he saw her, he swept a truck sized hand down and swatted. The hand passed right through her, and she charged towards his ankle, managing to swipe through his achilles tendon in on heavy blow. The giant staggered, and Alexa was about to continue her attack when another giant body slammed him with a mighty cry of “HAGGER!”

Alexa ran to the relative safety of the castle, only to see Ron, Harry, and Hermione tearing down the steps and towards the grounds, giving the wrestling giants a wide berth. 

“Wait!” she yelled, feeling a sudden chill in the air. Not more Dementors, she thought, she couldn’t pull the same trick again, it would kill her. She ran after them, shoving her sword in its sheath for the first time that night, and saw them then. There were less than before, but they were flocking towards Harry like a magnet. Ron cast a silver terrier, Hermione cast an otter. More figures were rushing out, and a hare joined the fray, as did a boar and a fox. 

“That’s right,” said Luna encouragingly, her hand wrapped in Harry’s, her tone soothing, as if they were back in the Room of Requirement and this was simply spell practice for the D.A., “That’s right, Harry. . . come on think of something happy. . . .”

“Something happy?‘ he said, his voice cracked.

“We’re all still here,” she whispered, “we’re still fighting. Come on, now. . . .”

Alexa threw out her wand, memories of her mother and her siblings flooded her mind, the bustling streets of Venice, riding the gondolas, Maria’s smile, “Expecto Patronum!” she yelled. A gust of silver rolled from her wand, condensing and forming into a massive three headed dog, which took a dementor in its maw and proceeded to shake it like a rag doll. 

“Expecto Patronum!” behind her, she heard Harry, and a silver stag joined the mix. The dementors scattered, and Harry turned gratefully to the rest of them. 

“You just saved us,” he said. 

“Run!” Ron yelled, and not a second too soon did they scatter for the next moment there was a giant’s food plopped right where they had been standing. Luna, Seamus, and Ernie flung curses at it, but the Golden Trio had vanished into the night. Presumably they had a good reason. The Giant however, inhaled deeply into the night air, and swing around, its eyes like yellow headlights in the night, to look at her. 

“Halfblood…” it rasped, misshapen teeth revealed as it grinned. Alexa flung herself to the side as it’s club pounded into the ground next to her. It had caught her scent, and it wouldn’t leave her alone until she took it out. 

“Oh,” Luna said serenely, firing stunner after stunner, “I see what you mean about them liking you.” Alexa normally would have laughed but at that moment she was running, rolling between its legs to slash at its ankle. She barely grazed it, and dropped into the shadows as it stomped on her. 

“Oi! Stupid!” Draco had found her, how he had gotten onto the grounds she did not know, but she didn’t particularly care as he had just flung a particularly large piece of the crumbled castle at the giant, hitting it square in the chest and knocking it backwards.

“Malfoy?” Seamus spat, lurching backwards. 

“Are you on our side now?” Luna asked, interested, “The wrackspurts are gone from your head.” She observed.   
Draco turned to them, his stolen wand clutched in hand, “I...I…” he shook his head to clear it, “I defected. I am defecting.”

“We need all the help we can get,” Seamus said, smiling grimly, “I still don’t like you though.” The Giant roared and charged. Draco gave a short, barking laugh, but was forced to drop to his stomach as the club swung over his head. Ernie shot another curse, but was kicked and sent flying through the air in a grand arch. Luna bolted after him, wand raised to slow his fall. 

“Hey shit head!” Alexa yelled, tucking her wand in her jeans and drawing her sword. She leapt backwards as the club crashed to the ground in front of her, and ran, jumping onto the club and scrambling up it’s arm. The Giant wailed, his hand slapping across his broad chest in search of Alexa. She had barely made it to it’s shoulder when it’s enormous hand slapped against its upper arm. She threw herself forward stabbing her sword into the side of it’s tree-trunk like neck.   
She swung one handed on the sword, grabbing a fist full of wrinkly skin on the opposite side of its neck, and dragged the sword across with as much force as she could muster. The Giant stopped short, gagging. She had definitely slit it’s airway, even if she had been aiming for it’s jugular. It swayed, and she ripped out her sword and slammed it to the hilt once more into the side of its neck. The beast gave a gasping sort of scream, and began to fall backwards. Alexa jumped forwards, arms windmilling as she plummeted towards the ground. She was expecting to pass into the shadows, but Seamus stood below her, wand drawn to catch her. She was gently lowered onto the grass, and Seamus crossed his arms. 

“You’re bloody crazy, you know that?” he said, and then he grinned, “Crazy, but brilliant.”

She laughed, rolling her shoulder. She had definitely hurt something when she had swung. That would heal though. “I try.” 

Draco had opened his mouth to say something, but a high cold voice filled the air for the second time that night.


	9. Crescendo

May 2, 1998

Voldemort’s voice reverberated across the grounds, through the castle, across the lake that writhed like the ocean. Alexa realized he was speaking to them, to the residents of Hogsmeade and all those still fighting in the castle, who could hear him as clearly as if he stood beside them, his breath on the back of their necks, a deathblow away. 

“You have fought,” said the high, cold voice, “valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste. Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured.

“I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour.” 

Alexa swallowed, watching as black cloaks poured from the castle, like so many tiny ants in the darkness. She watched as the surviving giants turned and followed, as the remaining acromantula scurried away.

“Let’s get to the Great Hall,” Alexa said, she pulled out her coin from her pocket, and sure enough the message was already there, 'Great Hall, bring fallen.' “We’ll need to gather whoever we find along the way.”

Seamus looked like he might be sick, and Luna and Ernie, both white faced in the night, were waiting for them as they reached the stone steps to the entrance hall. 

Alexa levitated Lavender Brown’s body in the air. The girl let out a weak moan. She was alive, thank the gods. 

“It’s okay girl,” Alexa said her voice a forced calm, “It’s our turn to take care of you.” The doors to the Great Hall were open, and the House tables were gone and the room was crowded. The survivors stood in groups, their arms around each other’s necks. The injured were being treated upon the raised platform by Madam Pomfrey and a group of helpers. Firenze was amongst the injured; his flank poured blood and he shook where he lay, unable to stand. The dead lay in a row in the middle of the Hall. She could see Fred Weasley, almost concealed by his family. Lupin and a woman with a shock of pink hair lay next to each other. Marvin, Sullivan, so many others. She looked away and handed of Lavender to Pomphrey, who immediately began muttering spells under her breath. 

“What’s he doing here?” a voice demanded. She saw a great turning and a great waving of wands all directed at Draco, who’s wand clattered to his feet as he raised his hands. 

“He’s left Voldemort,” she declared, appearing in front of the blond boy, “He’s defected.”

“I don’t believe that-” somebody from the crowd shouted.

“Hey!” Neville pushed his way through the mob, standing by Alexa’s side, “If he’s here to help us then are you really going to turn him away? Look what they’ve done to us!” he pointed at the rows of bodies lying on the ground, “We need every person we can get. If Alexa believes him, so do I.” There was a great muttering, but the mob dispersed. Neville turned to look at her. 

“You look like shit,” she commented. He rolled his eyes and pulled her into a tight hug. 

“So do you,” he replied. 

“Alexa!” a voice yelled, Neville stepped back just in time to dodge Theo throwing his arms around her and pulling her against his chest. Blaise latched on not a second behind, and she was squished between the two like a very affectionate sandwich. She felt tears pushing in her eyes, and quickly wiped them away, not before Blaise noticed. 

“Are you alright?” Theo asked, releasing her and catching her shoulders, examining her face. He had a gash from one end of his forehead to the other end of his jaw and it looked like half his hair had been burned off. Blaise’s face was, by some miracle, untouched, but there were wide bloodstains across his ribs and back, and what looked like a nasty burn molting his neck. 

“I’m fine,” she said.

“Liar,” Blaise said. She had never seen him look quite so serious as in that moment when he looked into her eyes. She looked away.

“There are more important things,” she said, looking out into the hall. Any emotions she might have about the line of bodies lying in front of her were tucked away nice and tight.

“I’m going out to help bring in the bodies,” Neville said quietly. Oliver, the former Gryffindor quidditch player, nodded at his side. 

“I’ll help,” Alexa said. There was a general murmuring of agreement from the boys around her, and they trudged out to the grounds. Now that her adrenaline had died out she could feel death hanging heavily in the air, a kind of sickening cloud that made her vaguely nauseous. They paired off, Blaise and Theo together, Oliver and Neville together, and Alexa and Draco as well. The others wandered off into the dark, and Alexa squared her shoulders. 

“Anthony is this way,” she said quietly, “Follow me.” She lead Draco farther out onto the grounds. He was silent, following a few paces behind her, jumping at the slightest of sounds. 

“How are you holding up?” she asked. 

“I am collecting the dead of the people I started tonight off with trying to kill,” his voice was dry, “I’m doing okay.”

“I think you are,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at him, “I think you’re doing remarkably well given the circumstances.” 

He gave a hoarse laugh, “I’m glad you think so. I don’t feel real. I…” he trailed off shaking his head, “I left everything I have ever been or was ever prepared to be-” his voice took on a hysteric note, and she grabbed his shoulder. 

“Hey,” she said, “Look at me.” His wide eyes met hers, and she could feel him tremble under her grip, “You are here. The only thing that’s real is what is happening right now in this exact moment. You can’t change the past. But you can move forward, and that’s what we’re doing.” Her tone was firm, and her gaze steady, and he nodded, although he still seemed unsteady. 

She turned and continued on, Draco in step at her side. It didn’t take long to reach Anthony. He was lying, eyes wide, the color washed from his face, blue lips parted. It was a clean death, and for that she was grateful. Careful not to disturb him, Alexa knelt by his side, reaching out to carefully close his eyes. 

“It was during the beginning,” she said, “Before they even got into the castle. We were the first line of defence.”

“I’m sorry,” Draco said, voice tight, “Did you see…?” 

“I felt it. I can block most of them, but I felt him go.”

Draco looked positively alarmed, but he didn’t comment. 

“There’s another over that way, I think he was with Lupin,” she pointed several yards away. Drawing her wand, she placed Anthony in a full body bind, and levitated him above the ground. She didn’t think she could stand the sight of his limbs and head lolling about when she brought him to the Great Hall. 

“I don’t recognize them,” Draco said, reappearing at her side with a body of his own levitated. She was grateful he had also bound it. 

“I don’t either, it must have been with the Order.” They trudged back to the castle. It was eerily quiet. It seemed like the entirety of the world was gathered in the Great Hall, with nothing but cold empty space around it. Every now and then she’d catch sight of somebody roaming the grounds or picking through the rubble, looking for allies, friends, and loved ones. Draco trailed her, flinching back whenever others approached. She could hardly blame him. 

“Lex,” a voice called as she was leaving the Great Hall once more. She turned, to see Neville walking towards her, Ginny at his side. The fire in her eyes was out, and she was limping, but her face was set with her usual determination. 

“We need to meet with Kingsley, we need a new plan,” he looked more tired than she had ever seen him. She supposed she didn’t look much better. She glanced at   
Draco, and Ginny spoke.

“I’ll stay with him,” she said, “c’mon Malfoy. She looped her arm through his and pulled him away to somewhere Alexa didn’t see. 

“Do you need anything healed?” Neville asked, as they made their way over to where Kingsley was seated on the floor, McGonagall by his side. 

“No,” she said, “I’m good.” She followed him, sitting heavily next to him on the stone floor. 

“We’ve taken heavy losses,” was the first thing out of Kingsley’s mouth, “We can’t keep taking hits like this.”

“Can we isolate to one area of the castle?” Alexa asked, “We can’t block them out again, but we can limit where they can come from.”

“There isn’t any part of the castle that isn’t damaged beyond that,” McGonagall sighed. 

There was a sudden, piercing scream from the end of the hall, and collectively the living jumped from their mourning, wands raised. 

“Wait!” Alexa hollered, pushing her way to the front of the crowd, “Wait they’re mine!” Her skeleton soldiers had found their way to the Hall. 

“When the hell did you get skeletons?” Blaise demanded, eyes wide.

“They’re new, well, to me. Don’t worry about them,” she called out to the still suspicious hall, “They’re fighting for us.” The skeletons chattered, teeth clicking together as if to assure the gathering that they meant no harm.

“Patrol the grounds,” she said, “Alert me if anyone comes through.” 

The seeming leader of the group nodded, and together the skeletons left, presumable to patrol the grounds. 

Neville gave a low whistle as she returned to his side, “That was exciting.”

“Too exciting. Everybody is ready to snap in here,” Alexa said, looking around.

“Our best shot is to remain here,” Kingsley said, “Has anyone seen Harry recently?”

They looked around, and a heavy weight settled into Alexa’s stomach. She had a bad feeling. 

“I saw him about thirty minutes ago,” Neville said, his brows furrowing together. “He said he had to do something, I couldn’t stop him from going alone.” He turned to Alexa, eyes wide and afraid, “Can you find him?” he asked. 

She exhaled and closed her eyes. She was not overly familiar with his life force, but she had a terrible suspicion as to where he would be. She reached her mind out across the grounds, out into the forest and…

“That’s so strange,” she whispered, “I found him, he’s in the forest, but he’s not alone. He’s with four...not ghosts, but not people either. I’ve never felt anything like it before but he’s headed towards Voldemort.”

“No!” Neville and McGonagall breathed in unison, not daring to raise their voices lest they cause a panic. 

“He’s there where they are, close enough to speak to him. He’s…” she fell silent for a moment, and then her eyes flew open, “He’s dead.” She pressed a hand over her mouth, and tears began to roll down McGonagall’s cheeks. She closed her eyes once more, begging for another explanation. There was a full minute of silence and then her eyes snapped open once more.

“He’s back. I don’t know how he did it, he was dead, but he was back. There’s something different, something is missing but he feels more whole now. And he is definitely not dead.”

“But how?” McGonagall demanded, hands clenched tightly.

“I don’t know,” Alexa was baffled, “I’ve never seen anything like it. He was gone, clearly and completely gone, and he came back. I can’t explain it.” She closed her eyes a third time. 

“They’re headed this way, like some kind of funeral procession. They probably think it’s over now.”

“Well they’ve got another thing coming,” Neville spat, a ferocity lighting up his eyes. 

Alexa was about to respond when a high cold voice filled the air for the third time that night. 

“Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone. “The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anybody who continues to resist, man, woman, or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together.”

Wails filled the hall, and Kingsley’s pressed his wand to his neck, but Neville caught his arm.

“If Voldemort is coming, then we need them convinced Harry’s dead. It’s got to be part of his plan,” he explained quickly. Kingsley hesitated, looking at the crowd of sobbing people, but nodded. 

“You’re right,” he said, shaking his head. 

“They’re outside waiting for us,” Alexa said, drawing her sword. 

She strode across the Hall, others following her until eventually the whole collection of battle worn wizards was with her. 

“No!” 

“Harry!” 

The shrieks were terrible, the sobs were worse, and the screaming was enough to break her heart. The Death Eaters stood in a line in front of them, Voldemort in all his bald glory at their center. To the right stood Hagrid, weeping still, a very small looking Harry Potter clutched in his arms. All around her, students and order members alike were screaming abuse at their foes. She clenched her sword tight in her hand, silent as the grave, there was one more fight left. 

“SILENCE!” cried Voldemort, and there was a bang and a flash of bright light, and silence was forced upon them all. Alexa hated silencing spells more than anything. “It’s over! Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs!”

Hagrid gave Voldemort a glare that could have set him aflame, but lowered their Chosen One gently on to the grass anyways. 

“You see?” said Voldemort, and he strode next to Harry, “Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!”

“He beat you!” yelled Ron, and the charm broke, and the defenders of Hogwarts were shouting and screaming again until a second, more powerful bang extinguished their voices once more.

“He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds,” said Voldemort, and there was relish in his voice for the lie, “killed while trying to save himself—”

And that’s when Neville lost his mind and charged Voldemort. 

“No!” Alexa hissed, lurching forward as Neville was quickly struck down. Theo, who had seemed to materialize beside her, grabbed her shoulder to keep her back. 

“And who is this?” he said in his soft snake’s hiss. “Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?”   
Bellatrix gave a delighted laugh. “It is Neville Longbottom, my Lord! The boy who has been giving the Carrows so much trouble! The son of the Aurors, remember?”

“Ah, yes, I remember,” said Voldemort, looking down at Neville, who was struggling back to his feet, unarmed and unprotected, standing in the noman’s-land between the survivors and the Death Eaters. “But you are a pureblood, aren’t you, my brave boy?” Voldemort asked Neville, who stood facing him, his empty hands curled into fists. 

“So what if I am?” said Neville loudly. 

“You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom.” Alexa snorted, as if. 

“I’ll join you when hell freezes over,” said Neville. “Dumbledore’s Army!” he shouted, and there was an answering cheer from the crowd, whom Voldemort’s Silencing Charms seemed unable to hold. 

“Very well,” said Voldemort, and the hairs on the back of her neck rose from the silkiness of his voice, a quiet promise of danger more pronounced than the most powerful curse. “If that is your choice, Longbottom, we revert to the original plan. On your head,” he said quietly, “be it.” 

Voldemort waved his wand. Seconds later, out of one of the castle’s shattered windows, something that looked like a misshapen bird flew through the half light and landed in Voldemort’s hand. He shook the mildewed object by its pointed end and it dangled, empty and ragged: the Sorting Hat.

“There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts School,” said Voldemort. “There will be no more Houses. The emblem, shield, and colors of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice for everyone. Won’t they, Neville Longbottom?” He pointed his wand at Neville, who grew rigid and still, then forced the hat onto Neville’s head, so that it slipped down to cover his eyes. There were movements from the watching crowd in front of the castle, and as one, the Death Eaters raised their wands, holding the fighters of Hogwarts at bay. Alexa snarled, pushing forward, trying to get through, but with the crowd pressing against her from behind and the spell from in front of her there was no where to go.

“Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me,” said Voldemort, and with a flick of his wand, he caused the Sorting Hat to burst into flames. Screams split the dawn, and Neville was aflame, rooted to the spot, unable to move, and Alexa passed into the shadows, leaping forward and out of Theo’s grasp but then-

There was a sudden, ground shaking roar from the boundary of the school, like hundreds of people screaming war cries. At the same time, the smaller giant from earlier appeared with a mighty roar of “HAGGER!’ The only answer to his cry were those of the giants, who rushed towards him like so many angry rinosauruses. Next came the great pounding of hooves and the familiar twangs of bows, and arrows were suddenly falling amongst the Death Eaters, who broke ranks, shouting their surprise. For the briefest second Alexa had the ludicrous thought camp Jupiter had come to their aid, but of course that was absurd. 

In one swift, fluid motion, Neville broke free of the Body-Bind Curse upon; the flaming hat fell off him and he drew from its depths something silver, with a glittering, rubied handle— The slash of the silver blade could not be heard over the roar of the oncoming crowd or the sounds of the clashing giants or of the stampeding centaurs, and yet it seemed to draw every eye. With a single stroke Neville sliced off the great snake’s head, which spun high into the air, gleaming in the light flooding from the entrance hall, and Voldemort’s mouth was open in a scream of fury that nobody could hear, and the snake’s body thudded to the ground at his feet—

“HARRY!” Hagrid shouted. “HARRY—WHERE’S HARRY?” 

Chaos reigned. The charging centaurs were scattering the Death Eaters, everyone was fleeing the giants’ stamping feet, and nearer and nearer thundered the reinforcements that had come from who knew where; Alexa saw great winged creatures soaring around the heads of Voldemort’s giants, thestrals and Buckbeak the hippogriff whom she recognized but thought was dead scratching at their eyes while the smaller giant punched and pummeled them, and now the wizards, defenders of Hogwarts and Death Eaters alike, were being forced back into the castle. She shot jinxes and hexes and curses at any Death Eater she could see, and their fallen bodies were swept away in the crowd, trampled and never to be seen again. 

And now there were more, even more people storming up the front steps, and Alexa saw a Weasley overtaking Horace Slughorn, who was still wearing his emerald green pajamas. They seemed to have returned at the head of what looked like the families and friends of every Hogwarts student who had remained to fight, along with the shopkeepers and homeowners of Hogsmeade. Three centaurs burst into the hall with a great clatter of hooves, and the door that led to the kitchens was blasted off its hinges.

She swung her sword, stabbing it deep into the knee of a Death Eater as she went by, but quickly raised her blade above her head so as not to impale the tide of house elves who swarmed into the hall. The house-elves of Hogwarts swarmed into the entrance hall, screaming and waving carving knives and cleavers, and at their head, a particularly gnarled one lead the charge, a heavy silver locket bouncing on his bare chest. 

“Fight! Fight! Fight for my Master, defender of the house-elves! Fight the Dark Lord, in the name of brave Regulus! Fight!” came his bull-frog voice, audible even over the clatter and screams of battle. They were hacking and stabbing at the ankles and shins of Death Eaters, their tiny faces alive with malice, and everywhere Alexa looked Death Eaters were folding under sheer weight of numbers, overcome by spells, dragging arrows from wounds, stabbed in the leg by elves, or else simply attempting to escape, but swallowed by the oncoming horde.

She locked eyes with an unmasked Death Eater, and recognized him immediately. He was the one who had been on the train to collect the muggle borns, all those months ago. 

“Hey!” she yelled, flinging a cutting hex at him. He blocked it and she advanced, still yelling. “You know who got the muggle borns off the train?” He shot a curse she didn’t recognize at him, and she spun into the shadows to avoid it, stepping out behind him, her wand at his throat.

“Me.” she whispered, before stunning him. 

Voldemort was in the center of the battle, and he was striking and smiting all within reach. The Great Hall became more and more crowded as everyone who could walk forced their way inside. Alexa lunged with her sword as another Death Eater charged her, and she impaled him through the belly, her sword popping out his back. She wrenched the blade from him, no clear individual opponent, just a sea of Death Eaters around her. 

Around her, Yaxley was slammed to the floor by George and Lee Jordan, saw Dolohov fall with a scream at Flitwick’s hands, she saw Walden Macnair thrown across the room by Hagrid, hit the stone wall opposite, and slide unconscious to the ground. She saw Ron and Neville bringing down Fenrir Greyback, Aberforth Stunning Rookwood, Arthur and Percy flooring Thicknesse, and Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy running through the crowd, not even attempting to fight, screaming for their son, who was on the opposite side of the room from them, near her, dueling a masked man with determination the likes of which she had never seen from him. Voldemort was now dueling McGonagall, Slughorn, and Kingsley all at once, and there was cold hatred in his face as they wove and ducked around him, unable to finish him— Bellatrix was still fighting too, fifty yards away from Voldemort, and like her master she dueled three at once: Hermione, Ginny, and Luna, all battling their hardest, but Bellatrix was equal to them, and Alexa turned to run toward them, as a killing curse missed Ginny by barely a hair. 

“NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!” Mrs. Weasley screamed as she threw off her cloak as she ran, freeing her arms. Bellatrix spun on the spot, roaring with laughter at the sight of her new challenger. “OUT OF MY WAY!” shouted Mrs. Weasley to the three girls, and with a swipe of her wand she began to duel. Alexa watched with terror and elation as Molly Weasley’s wand slashed and twisted, and Bellatrix Lestrange’s smile faltered and became a snarl. Jets of light flew from both wands, the floor around the witches’ feet became hot and cracked; both women were fighting to kill. Dimly she was aware of Draco next to her, watching with bated breath as his Aunt fought the Weasley matriarch.

“No!” Mrs. Weasley cried as a few students ran forward, trying to come to her aid. “Get back! Get back! She is mine!” Hundreds of people now lined the walls, watching the two fights, Voldemort and his three opponents, and Bellatrix and Molly. 

“What will happen to your children when I’ve killed you?” taunted Bellatrix, as mad as her master, capering as Molly’s curses danced around her. “When Mummy’s gone the same way as Freddie?” 

“You—will—never—touch—our—children—again!” screamed Mrs. Weasley. 

Bellatrix laughed, the same exhilarated laugh filled with a madness she doubted even Bacchus could muster, and suddenly Alexa knew what was going to happen before it did. Molly’s curse soared beneath Bellatrix’s outstretched arm and hit her squarely in the chest, directly over her heart. Bellatrix’s gloating smile froze, her eyes began to bulge: For the tiniest space of time she knew what had happened, and then she toppled, and the watching crowd roared, and Voldemort screamed.   
McGonagall, Kingsley, and Slughorn were blasted backward, flailing and writhing through the air, as Voldemort’s fury at the fall of his last, best lieutenant exploded with the force of a bomb. 

Voldemort raised his wand and directed it at Molly Weasley. 

“Protego!” roared someone, and the Shield Charm expanded in the middle of the Hall, and Voldemort stared around for the source as Harry pulled off the Invisibility Cloak.

The yell of shock, the cheers, the screams on every side of “Harry!” “HE’S ALIVE!” were stifled at once. The crowd was afraid, and silence fell abruptly and completely as Voldemort and Harry looked at each other, and began, at the same moment, to circle each other. 

“I don’t want anyone else to try to help.” Harry said loudly, and in the total silence his voice carried like a trumpet call. “It’s got to be like this. It’s got to be me.”  
Voldemort hissed. “Potter doesn’t mean that,” he said, his red eyes wide. “That isn’t how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?”

“Nobody,” said Harry simply. “There are no more Horcruxes. It’s just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good. . . .” Alexa didn’t know what that meant, but she saw the fear in Voldemort’s eyes for the briefest moment before it was extinguished. 

“One of us?” jeered Voldemort, and his whole body was taut and his red eyes stared, a snake that was about to strike. “You think it will be you, do you, the boy who has survived by accident, and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?”

“Accident, was it, when my mother died to save me?” asked Harry. They were still moving sideways, both of them, in that perfect circle, maintaining the same distance from each other. “Accident, when I decided to fight in that graveyard? Accident, that I didn’t defend myself tonight, and still survived, and returned to fight again?”

“Accidents!” screamed Voldemort, but still he did not strike, and the watching crowd was wound, ready to spring at a moment's notice. Very few times during the night had Alexa been genuinely afraid, but now, watching them circle each other, there was an ice clawing at her throat threatening to consume her. “Accident and chance and the fact that you crouched and sniveled behind the skirts of greater men and women, and permitted me to kill them for you!”

“You won’t be killing anyone else tonight,” said Harry as they circled, and stared into each other’s eyes, green into red. “You won’t be able to kill any of them ever again. Don’t you get it? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting these people—”

“But you did not!”

“—I meant to, and that’s what it did. I’ve done what my mother did. They’re protected from you. Haven’t you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are binding? You can’t torture them. You can’t touch them. You don’t learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?”

“You dare—”

“Yes, I dare,” said Harry. “I know things you don’t know, Tom Riddle. I know lots of important things that you don’t. Want to hear some, before you make another big mistake?”

Voldemort did not speak, but prowled in a circle, contemplating the man in front of him. He was temporarily mesmerized and at bay, held back by the faintest possibility that Harry might indeed know a final secret. . . .

Is it love again?” said Voldemort, his snake’s face jeering. “Dumbledore’s favorite solution, love, which he claimed conquered death, though love did not stop him falling from the tower and breaking like an old waxwork? Love, which did not prevent me stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter—and nobody seems to love you enough to run forward this time and take my curse. So what will stop you from dying now when I strike?”

“Just one thing,” said Harry, and still they circled each other, wrapped in each other, held apart by nothing but the last secret.

“If it is not love that will save you this time,” said Voldemort, “you must believe that you have magic that I do not, or else a weapon more powerful than mine?”

“I believe both,” said Harry, and he saw shock flit across the snakelike face, though it was instantly dispelled; Voldemort began to laugh, and the sound was more frightening than his screams; humorless and insane, it echoed around the silent Hall.

“You think you know more magic than I do?” he said. “Than I, than Lord Voldemort, who has performed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?”

“Oh, he dreamed of it,” said Harry, “but he knew more than you, knew enough not to do what you’ve done.”

“You mean he was weak!” screamed Voldemort. “Too weak to dare, too weak to take what might have been his, what will be mine!” 

“No, he was cleverer than you,” said Harry, “a better wizard, a better man.”

“I brought about the death of Albus Dumbledore!” 

“You thought you did,” said Harry, “but you were wrong.” For the first time, the watching crowd stirred as the hundreds of people around the walls drew breath as one. 

“Dumbledore is dead!” Voldemort hurled the words at Harry as though they would cause him unendurable pain. “His body decays in the marble tomb in the grounds of this castle. I have seen it, Potter, and he will not return!”

”Yes, Dumbledore’s dead,” said Harry calmly, “but you didn’t have him killed. He chose his own manner of dying, chose it months before he died, arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant.” 

“What childish dream is this?” said Voldemort, but still he did not strike, and his red eyes did not waver from Harry’s.

“Severus Snape wasn’t yours,” said Harry. “Snape was Dumbledore’s Dumbledore’s from the moment you started hunting down my mother. And you never realized it, because of the thing you can’t understand. You never saw Snape cast a Patronus, did you, Riddle?” 

Voldemort did not answer. They continued to circle each other, like wolves about to tear each other apart. 

“Snape’s Patronus was a doe,” said Harry,“the same as my mother’s, because he loved her for nearly all of his life, from the time when they were children. You should have realized,” he said as he saw Voldemort’s nostrils flare, “he asked you to spare her life, didn’t he?” 

“He desired her, that was all,” sneered Voldemort, “but when she had gone, he agreed that there were other women, and of purer blood, worthier of him—” 

“Of course he told you that,” said Harry, “but he was Dumbledore’s spy from the moment you threatened her, and he’s been working against you ever since! Dumbledore was already dying when Snape finished him!”

“It matters not!” shrieked Voldemort, who had followed every word with rapt attention, but now let out a cackle of mad laughter. “It matters not whether Snape was mine or Dumbledore’s, or what petty obstacles they tried to put in my path! I crushed them as I crushed your mother, Snape’s supposed great love! Oh, but it all makes sense, Potter, and in ways that you do not understand! 

“Dumbledore was trying to keep the Elder Wand from me! He intended that Snape should be the true master of the wand! But I got there ahead of you, little boy—I reached the wand before you could get your hands on it, I understood the truth before you caught up, I killed Severus Snape hours ago, and the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny is truly mine! Dumbledore’s last plan went wrong, Harry Potter!”

“Yeah, it did,” said Harry. “You’re right. But before you try to kill me, I’d advise you to think about what you’ve done. . . . Think, and try for some remorse, Riddle. . . .”   
Alexa was taken aback. Surely Voldemort was beyond saving? Surely he would die tonight?

“What is this?” Voldemort seemed as shocked as they did.

“It’s your one last chance,” said Harry, “it’s all you’ve got left. . . . I’ve seen what you’ll be otherwise. . . . Be a man . . . try . . . Try for some remorse. . . .” 

“You dare—?” said Voldemort again.

Yes, I dare,” said Harry, “because Dumbledore’s last plan hasn’t backfired on me at all. It’s backfired on you, Riddle. That wand still isn’t working properly for you because you murdered the wrong person. Severus Snape was never the true master of the Elder Wand. He never defeated Dumbledore.”

“He killed—”

Aren’t you listening? Snape never beat Dumbledore! Dumbledore’s death was planned between them! Dumbledore intended to die undefeated, the wand’s last true master! If all had gone as planned, the wand’s power would have died with him, because it had never been won from him!”

“But then, Potter, Dumbledore as good as gave me the wand!” Voldemort’s voice shook with malicious pleasure. “I stole the wand from its last master’s tomb! I removed it against its last master’s wishes! It’s power is mine!” 

“You still don’t get it, Riddle, do you? Possessing the wand isn’t enough! Holding it, using it, doesn’t make it really yours. Didn’t you listen to Ollivander? The wand chooses the wizard. . . . The Elder Wand recognized a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who never even laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never realizing exactly what he had done, or that the world’s most dangerous wand had given him its allegiance. . . . “   
Voldemort’s chest rose and fell rapidly, “The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy.”

Next to her Draco took a step back, eyes going wide. Across the room, his parents eyes had finally found him, wide in horror and fear at their son’s fate. Alexa stepped partially in front of him, her sword glinting in her hand and her eyes on Voldemort. 

Blank shock showed in Voldemort’s face for a moment, but then it was gone. 

“But what does it matter?” he said softly. “Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wand: We duel on skill alone . . . and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy. . . .” 

“But you’re too late,” said Harry. “You’ve missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took this wand from him.” Harry twitched the hawthorn wand, and he felt the eyes of everyone in the Hall upon it. Draco’s sigh of relief was audible.

“So it all comes down to this, doesn’t it?” whispered Harry. “Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does . . . I am the true master of the Elder Wand.”

A red-gold glow burst suddenly across the enchanted sky above them as an edge of dazzling sun appeared over the sill of the nearest window. The light hit both of their faces at the same time, so that they were suddenly a flaming blur. Alexa heard the high voice shriek as they both raised their wands, aiming blindly:

“Avada Kedavra!”

“Expelliarmus!”

The bang was like a cannon blast, and the golden flames that erupted between them, at the dead center of the circle they had been treading, marked the point where the spells collided. Voldemort’s green jet met Harry’s, and the Elder Wand flew high, dark against the sunrise, spinning across the enchanted ceiling like the head of Nagini, spinning through the air toward the master it would not kill, who had come to take full possession of it at last. And Harry, with the unerring skill of a Seeker, caught the wand in his free hand as Voldemort fell backward, arms splayed, the slit pupils of the scarlet eyes rolling upward. He hit the floor with a mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunken, the white hands empty, the snakelike face vacant and unknowing. Voldemort was dead, killed by his own rebounding curse, and Harry stood with two wands in his hands, staring down at his enemy’s shell.

One shivering second of silence, the shock of the moment suspend: and then the tumult broke around Harry as the screams and the cheers and the roars of the watchers rent the air. Alexa cheered along with them, throwing her arms around Draco, who was beaming, screaming as well as anyone else. The fierce new sun dazzled the windows as the crowd thundered toward Harry, and the first to reach him were Ron and Hermione, and it was their arms that were wrapped around him, their incomprehensible shouts that deafened him. Then Ginny, Neville, and Luna were there, and then all the Weasleys and Hagrid, and Kingsley and McGonagall and Flitwick and Sprout, and no one could not hear a word that anyone was shouting, nor tell whose hands were seizing whom, hundreds of them, celebrating their survival and victory together. 

Alexa and Neville found each other, they sorted through their Army, they mourned with them, they helped distribute food. They spread the news that the Imperiused up and down the country had come back to themselves, that Death Eaters were fleeing or else being captured, that the innocent of Azkaban were being released at that very moment, and that Kingsley Shacklebolt had been named temporary Minister of Magic.  
Alexa herself helped move Voldemort’s body and laid it in a chamber off the Hall, away from the bodies of Fred, Tonks, Lupin, Colin Creevey, and the dozens of others who had died fighting him. McGonagall had replaced the House tables, but nobody was sitting according to House anymore: All were jumbled together, teachers and pupils, ghosts and parents, centaurs and house-elves, and Firenze lay recovering in a corner, and the small giant whose name was Grawp peered in through a smashed window, and people were throwing food into his laughing mouth.   
She sat at the Hufflepuff table, Neville and his Gran on one side, Blaise and Theo on the other. Across from them was Draco Malfoy, his parents on either side. She had spoken for Draco, and Harry had spoken for Narcissa, and somehow Lucius had been allowed to stay as well. But nobody was paying them any attention at the moment. 

Neville was telling his gram about their exploits during the year. Every now and then Seamus would chime in from his Gran’s other side, Dean’s hand held firmly in his. Alexa gave her own sly contributions, and Blaise and Theo scolded her from time to time. 

The war was over. They could move on, and they would do it together.


	10. Chapter Ten: The Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some news is broken none too gently.

June 15, 1998

There was no lack of help when it came to rebuilding the castle. So many people came in day after day, repairing the cracked stone, scrubbing the soot marks, mending the tapestries and portraits. A fair number of them, like Alexa herself, had never left the castle after the battle. She had been able to write to Octavian at least, and tell him what had happened, although his reply had never come.

Alexa’s birth had come under fire, and had made it all the way to the prophet. Apparently her body count during the battle had been notably high and apparent. The damage inflicted with a sword was much easier to trace than that with wand. There were a great many questions thrown her way, and a lot of fear. She didn’t bother to hide her tattoos any longer. The burned in SPQR, Pluto’s alchemical symbol, and three black lines stood out starkly against her skin. 

The history of demigods and wizards was not a pleasant one. Way back in Rome and presumably Greece, Demigods and Wizards fought. Demigod blood was (and still was for that matter) seen as incredibly valuable. Demigods were hunted by wizards and wizards were hunted by demigods in turn. Magical demigods kept their talents hidden, choosing one life or the other. As far as Alexa knew, she was the only demigod ever caught going to Hogwarts. But after the Dark Ages, a reformation came, and a treaty was declared. There would be no more violence, but they would remain segregated. Legend said that Hecate herself had gotten involved to cause that, but the story was fuzzy. Either way, demigods were still officially categorized as magical creatures. And then Demigods faded. Years later, when the god’s left Europe, demigods were nothing more than a story. But the laws against them attending Hogwarts had never formally been removed. And with Alexa having been front and center during the war, and a Slytherin none the less, there was a wave of fear. Outrage sparked that she had been allowed to live amongst their children, despite the lives she had saved. There had been an article in the prophet that had been particularly nasty, but Harry and Neville had made quick work convincing the populus otherwise, and she was hard to protest when she had been awarded an Honor of Merlin. The ceremony for that would be soon, and hopefully by then the public would be settled. She tried to ignore the stares that followed her when she left the castle, but for the most part she stayed within the boundaries of the school. She didn’t have anywhere else to go in England. Her home was thousands of miles away. But she hadn’t received any letters from Octavian for long time...

Kingsley had approached members of Dumbledore’s army about Auror positions. He was still acting Minister, but it seemed that when elections came in the Fall, he would have the job. So far she thought he had done well. His task was a huge one, getting the ministry back into working order, and then overhauling the system to remove the elitist laws and prejudice proclamations. Percy Weasley had become something of his personal assistant, and Hermione his missionary. Alexa kept the letter he had sent her regarding the job tucked away in her truck upstairs. She had told him she needed to think about it. She had never had the chance to decide where she would spend her adult life. Would she go back to New Rome or stay in England? But for now there was only rebuilding. And that she could do. 

And today was a morning utterly unlike any other had been for the past month. She got up, she went to the Great Hall for breakfast, and then filtered out into the castle with the crowd, returning to the tasks they had not finished the day before, or move on to new ones. They’d file back in for lunch, and again for dinner, and that’s where Alexa was heading presently. 

“Burn in Hell Seamus!” Neville laughed, giving the sandy haired boy a playful shove with his shoulder. 

Alexa plopped down next to Neville, “Sorry, I’m not running any deliveries today. You’ll have to wait until Monday.”

Seamus laughed, “Like you could ever get me.” She chuckled along with the rest of the table, eagerly filling her plate. Hogwarts meals never disappointed. 

“McGonagall asked me to tell you to go to her office after dinner,” Harry chimed in from across the table. 

“Did she say what for?” Alexa asked.

Harry shrugged, shaking his head, “No, but it’s probably just something with the castle.”

Alexa nodded, “Yeah, probably.” Draco came then, sitting down on her other side. He and his mother had remained at the castle, both had been pardoned because they had betrayed Voldemort. Lucius was awaiting trial. 

“Peeves almost murdered me today,” he said casually. 

“It happens,” Harry shrugged, “what did he do this time?” Harry, Neville, and Alexa had taken it upon themselves to integrate Draco into their social circle. And Draco, ever the socialite, had merged himself in with all the grace and finesse of his breeding. For the most part.

“He ‘accidentally’ knocked me off one of the staircases with one of Trelawney's crystal balls.” Draco said, “I’m going to have the biggest bruise.”

Alexa snorted, “Be glad it was only a crystal ball.  
”  
Draco shuddered, “True.”

“Who else got an invitation to the Ministry for the memorial next week?” Ron asked, sitting down next to Harry. 

“I did,” Neville said. Most of the table had, including Alexa herself.

“Everyone is going, right?” Hermione had come with Ron, sitting down beside him. “It’s important for Kingsley to have our support publicly.” 

There was a general murmuring of agreement, and Draco looked distinctly uncomfortable. She finished her food quickly, and rose. 

As she made their way to the Headmaster’s office she tried to keep her eyes straight ahead. To not look at the charred stones and slashed statues. The bodies we gone. And the castle was quiet. But she could still hear it, still feel it. It was as if the battle was still raging around her. Her heart began to pound and she forced herself not to get dragged into memories. It wouldn't be of any use to her. The signs of the fight decreased with every day that went on. But some of the scars couldn’t be erased.   
“Fin,” she said to the stone gargoyle as she reached it. It leapt aside and she hopped on the turning spiral staircase. She knocked three times on the solid wood door.  
“Come in.” Came the call from the other side. Alexa stepped in. The office was nearly the same as the last time she had been in there. The delicate silver instruments still did their work, the office was still cluttered and just as mystifying as it had always been. 

“Miss Di’Angelo,” McGonagall rose from behind the mighty oak desk, piled high with papers and things Alexa couldn’t even begin to name, “Please, won’t you sit down? Would you like a biscuit?”

“Good evening Professor,” she said, taking a seat, “No thank you. Harry said you wanted to speak with me?”

Her friendly expression turned serious, and she sighed heavily, sitting down. “Yes,” she said, suddenly seeming far older than she was, “I did.” Or maybe she had always been that old and Alexa had never noticed. 

“It seems Dumbledore had one last plan up his sleeve for us,” she gave a smile that bordered on bitter but faded into fondness. “When Voldemort died, or perhaps when Mr. Potter died, I can’t be sure, one of the drawers on this desk unlocked. I had never been able to open it, and neither had Severus during his time as Headmaster. Inside was a letter addressed to you.”

Alexa’s eyes widened, “Me? I barely knew Dumbledore. Are you sure?”

McGonagall pulled open the drawer and retrieved an envelope with her name across the front in thin, spiralling hand-writing.  
“You don’t have to tell me what it contains,” she assured her. 

With numb fingers Alexa broke the wax and opened the envelope. She froze at the date penned at the corner of the paper.

“It’s from 1979,” she murmured, frowning. 

“What?” McGonagall looked positively perturbed, “When were you born?”

“Before then--It’s a bit complicated professor,” she said looking up at McGonagall, “I was born in 1931, but when Jupiter killed my mother and siblings my father, Pluto, put me in the Lotus Hotel. I don’t know if you’ve heard of the Lotus Eaters, but they now reside there. While you’re in the hotel you don’t age, and it doesn’t feel like any time has passed. I was in there for more than fifty years.”

“Merlin…” McGonagall's hand came up to cover her mouth, and Alexa turned back to her letter. 

My Dear Alessandra,

I write you this letter with the confidence that you will have survived the war. I have no doubts that you fought bravely and admirably. I have no doubts that yours was a critical contribution. I have no doubts you are by far the bravest Slytherin I will ever have the honor of knowing.   
I do not yet know you, but by the time you have read this you will have known me. Perhaps I am the one handing you this letter, perhaps not. I know not the outcome of the war. As it stands now, Voldemort’s power is only growing. I fear for the safety of all. I hope, for all of our sakes, that you find this letter after your victory, although I know that makes what I am about to ask of you all the more difficult.   
Voldemort, or as I knew him, Tom Riddle, was always a troubled child. But it wasn’t until 1942 that his path truly turned to darkness. I offer you a chance to change the world for the better. I’m sorry to give you this burden, but due to your unique bloodline and age, you are the one person who can do this. Enclosed in the drawer you will find instructions for a ceremony that will allow you to travel back in time to 1942, to Tom Riddle’s fifth year. Not to kill him, indeed if you go back and cause anyone’s death time will ripple and snap much like a muggle rubber band. Lives through time work as a series of tunnels, if one collapses before it’s end the others will become unstable. We do not know the consequences of such an act. But, if you could prevent him from becoming Voldemort, if you could save Tom Riddle from his own future, you would save hundreds if not thousands of lives. Perhaps including mine. It is, of course your decision. All I ask of you is that you think it through thoroughly, and consider every possibility.   
The reason why you must be the one I ask to do this is due to the nature of long distance time travel. I trust you are familiar with the concept of time turners? Your average wizard (or witch of course) can only handle having so much magical energy pulled through their body. A time turner allows a person to travel back in time a week at most, but no farther. This is because any more magical energy, and an individual’s body would be destroyed from the inside out. However, because of your father your body is capable of handling that much energy. In addition, one must be alive in the time they are traveling back to. Because you were born in 1931, you are the only person who can do this. 

 

Yours Faithfully, 

Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore

 

Heart pounding she passed the top letter to McGonagall, “This has to be some kind of joke,” she said. McGonagall’s face went white as a sheet, and she set the letter delicately down on the wooden tabletop. 

"Is that all?" she asked.

“I fear,” she said, squaring her shoulders, “It is not. Would you like to see the rest?” 

Alexa nodded wordlessly. McGonagall squared her shoulder and pulled a small glass bottle with a glowing blue liquid inside. Next she pulled out a thickly rolled scroll tied with a ribbon, a much thinner scroll, tied with the same ribbon, and a folder with a thick packet of parchment--no, paper. Both together, Alexa noted. It was a strange visual. 

“May I?” McGonagall asked, hand lingering on the thickest scroll.

“Yes please,” Alexa felt like she was choking.

“These are the instructions--but they’re not in Dumbledore’s hand,” McGonagall murmured, brow furrowing, “Do you recognize this?”

The letters were rigid and angular, without any slant at all. Vastly different than Dumbledore’s own looping scrawl. She had never seen it before in her life. 

“No,” she shook her head, “I don’t know it.”

“How is this possible,” McGonagall was flipping through the numerous pages, “Nobody should know this--this is old magic. Long distance time travel has been theorized, but never successfully attempted. It was thought to once be possible, but the magic has been lost for centuries.” She was muttering to herself, seeming to have quite forgotten the shell shocked Alexa sitting across from her, “This shouldn't exist…the potion is for you to take with you. Add a drop of your blood and it will go to whatever time you go. If you should ever find your way back to us, add six drops into a goblet of wine and if we drink it our memories of you will come back.” she shook her head. 

“What’s in the other one?” Alexa asked.

McGonagall quickly undid the ribbon of the smaller scroll, “Some kind of poem?”

Alexa’s blood ran cold, “Is there any heading?”

“When I visited the oracle,” McGonagall read, “She gave me this prophecy.” The professor turned back to Alexa, “It’s in the same hand as the spell.”

“What does it say?” Alexa asked, fists clenched. 

McGonagall cleared her throat,

"Fate has twisted, time has altered  
By the one who’s brother slaughtered  
To right the wrong that has been done  
She has until the hidden sun  
So she must return to altered strain  
A sacrifice to be made in vain  
Beyond the veil, held in scorn  
A ghost will live, never mourned   
A Child of Death through time once more  
To the end of the Giant’s war"

 

“Shit,” Alexa swore, quickly glancing up, “Sorry Professor.”

“Miss Di Angelo,” McGonagall said seriously, “I think we’re quite beyond that.”

Alexa laughed, shock making her feel numb. “If there’s a prophecy I can’t refuse. It’s not Dumbledore sending me, it’s the gods. But which one?” She groaned, sitting forward and putting her face in her hands, “There’s no one who would--Jupiter would never acknowledge me, unless this was some kind of a sick joke to torment me. That’s believable, but I can’t imagine he’d care that much. Maybe Apollo? He’s the god of prophecy, but Oracle isn’t even Roman, it’s Greek. The only thing we have that’s close is our Augur, Octavian. And I don’t think teddy bear guts are this complex-” Alexa was rambling and she knew it, but her heart was pounding so fast she thought it might explode and she felt like she was going to vomit. 

“Alessandra,” McGonagall reached across the table to grasp her hand, “You do have a choice,” she said firmly. “You always have a choice.” 

Alexa shook her head, “Do I? Never mind the prophecy, I’ve just been given the chance to go back in time and stop Voldemort. Don’t know how they want me to do that without killing him but the prophecy suggests it’s possible. How many lives can I save by doing this?” She exhaled deeply, rubbing her hand over her face, “How can I justify not going?”

“If you decide not to go,” McGonagall said, “I close the drawer again, and seal it so that it may never be opened. No one will ever know.”

“I can’t refuse to go. This isn’t just an option now, this is a quest, there’s a prophecy--you can’t escape prophecy. Look at the Iliad, Oedipus, look at any story you’ve ever heard. Look at Harry Potter! Do you remember how many people we lost during the war? They would all be back, it would be like it never happened, Voldemort would never have existed.”

“You don’t know that,” McGonagall said, quickly, “You don’t know that things wouldn’t be worse. Bad things happen to wizards who meddle with time.”

“Lily and James Potter would raise their son, Sirius Black would never have gone to Azkeban, the Remus and Tonks would never die, they would know their son. Anthony wouldn’t have died, Colin Creevy, Lavender Brown, Fred Weasley-These are just the people I can name off the top of my head, how many others would be here today if it hadn’t been for Voldemort. How many wizards died in the wars, and how many muggles who didn’t even know what was happening?” She was getting hysterical, and she exhaled deeply, clasping her hands so tightly in her lap her nails left half moon marks in her skin. 

McGonagall was silent, giving Alexa a most peculiar look, “The Fates work in mysterious ways that don’t always benefit those involved.”

“I know professor, believe me, I know,” Alexa said, swallowing hard. She could save all the people she had failed during the battle, who had died under her command. 

“Take some time to think about it,” she said finally, “And I’ll review the spell--and potion--and figure out how to make this work.”

Alexa nodded, “Can I have the letter and the prophecy? And the information on Him.” she added tightly.

“Of course,” McGonagall folded the letter back in it’s envelope, tucking it in with the prophecy. She handed both that, and the folder of papers to Alexa.

“Thank you,” Alexa murmured, rising. 

“Have a biscuit before you go,” McGonagall added sternly, pushing the tin forward. Alexa complied, taking a shortbread cookie from the tin with a murmured thanks.

“Goodnight Professor,” she said.

“Goodnight Miss Di Angelo,” McGonagall said. She must have thought Alexa was out of earshot, because a moment later she turned to the silent portrait of Dumbledore, “What have you done to these children now, Albus?” 

What had he done indeed.

Alexa walked through the castle. The choice was obvious. She would go. Even without the prophecy there was no way she could turn away this opportunity. Faces kept flashing through her mind, living and dead. How many lives would she touch and change? She couldn’t refuse this opportunity. But how could she possibly stop Voldemort without killing him? She wanted to kill him. Down to the very core of her being she was glad he was dead, she took pleasure in his death. He deserved to die, and she was sure his soul would be in the fields of punishment for the rest of time, and that made her happy. And now she had stop him by what, preventing him from becoming Voldemort in the first place? Making sure no Voldemort would exist at all?

She stopped short, there had to be a catch. McGonagall was right, the Fates were not known to be forgiving creatures, and surely they would not let her do this? Unless of course, they had something to do with it? Was that even possible? The envelope seemed heavy in the back pocket of her jeans. She had a prophecy. She had no idea what that prophecy meant, but she had one. It said she would go through time. If there was a catch, she would have to figure it out from the past. She would go back. Her mind was solidly made up, it would not change. 

She ended up at the top of the Astronomy Tower. Sitting down on the stone floor under the stars, she the folder.

“Let’s see what’s behind door number three…” she murmured. There was a second, thick envelope. She opened it and the first thing she extracted was a letter dated from the previous year. 

Alessandra, many years have passed since the first letter I penned to you. I have watched you grow like so many others. War is on the horizon and I fear what it may hold in store for the students I swore and failed to protect. I’m sorry for my failures, and I hope, quite selfishly, that you may right some of them. Enclosed you will find a letter for you to give to myself in the past, documentation for your application at Hogwarts, and all the information I have on Tom Riddle. Please remember, your Gringotts vault is still there, as it was set up by your father for any magical children he may have. 

Hoping for your best, 

Albus Dumbledore 

Sure enough, there was a letter addressed to him in a smaller sealed envelope stuck inside. But most startling staring up at her was a picture of a boy, paperclipped to a thick stack of She pulled out a thick folder labeled ‘TMR’ and flipped it open. On the front page was a picture of a startlingly handsome young man. He was pale, with defined cheekbones, dark eyes smoldering under thick lashes, and neatly coiffed chestnut curls. The photo ran in a loop, of his face shifting from sobriety to a smile that almost reached his eyes. 

‘Tom Marvolo Riddle,’ it read, ‘seventh year, 1944.’ 

She closed the folder, unable to look at him any longer. She turned her attention to the envelope containing the complex instructions. From what she understood of it, it was a combination of a spell and a potion--the potion having already been brewed and hidden in a different cabinet in his office. She could take a trunk with her to the past and that would be it, and the trunk could not be magically enhanced.

Once she got to the past, she figured she would get a room at the Leaky Cauldron, and go from there. Probably going straight to Dumbledore would be her best bet. Get enrolled in school again, as a fifth year of all things. That would be annoying. Find Tom Riddle, which wouldn’t be too hard considering the hefty packet of information she had, and then…not kill him. She couldn’t kill him. Befriend him? Did he even have friends? 

She groaned, rocking back and leaning against the stone railing. 

Would she tell anyone she was leaving? They wouldn’t remember, it really didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things if she did or not. She would like to tell them, she would like to say goodbye. She would leave after the memorial, and say her goodbyes after. But she wouldn't tell everyone. 

But there was one person she was sure she needed to tell. 

She had made her way to the Gryffindor tower and was standing in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady. 

“Password?” The Fat Lady asked, looking down at her. 

“Welcome,” Alexa said. She needed to talk to Harry. That would be her first step. 

The portrait swung open and Alexa climbed in. The common room was filled with people. She was, at this point, used to the cozy red room. With no one going by house and so many people staying in the castle to help clean it, evenings had become a rotating event, circling from common room to common room.   
“Hey Lex,” Neville called from the comfort of a squishy love seat. Luna sat beside him, curled up with a copy of the Quibbler in her lap, 

Alexa made her way over to him, “Hey,” she greeted, “Have you seen Harry?” 

“I’m here!” a voice called from the stairs to the boys dormitory, “What’s going on? Did you talk to McGonagall?” 

“Yeah,” Alexa said, “Can we talk outside for a minute?” Her heart hadn’t stopped pounding since she left the office. 

“Uh, yeah okay? Is everything okay?” He asked, brows pushing together as he followed her out of the room. They stepped out into the torch lit hallway and the portrait hole swung shut behind them. Alexa glanced up at the clearly curious Fat Lady. 

“Let’s walk,” Harry said, noticing her gaze. Alexa nodded, and the Fat Lady gave a humph. 

“I think it’s best if you read this,” she pulled the letter from the back pocket of her jeans, and handed it to him.

“This is from Dumbledore!” Harry exclaimed, “I didn’t know you were--1979?” he stopped short, catching sight of the date in the top corner, “I wasn’t even born then, are you older than me?”

Alexa chuckled, “You could say that. Read it,” she urged. Harry’s eyes scanned the letter quickly, growing wider by the second. And then he reread it. And reread it. And stared blankly at the prophecy. 

“I don’t understand,” he said, “You were born when…?”

“1931,” she answered, “There’s a hotel in Vegas where you can stay for years and never age and it feels like no time is passing.”

“You’re definitely older than me,” Harry murmured, looking down at the prophecy, “Do you have any idea what this means?” he asked. 

“Only that I have to go back, which I was going to do anyways,” she shrugged, “It'll probably play out in some sort obnoxious way where I don't know what's happening until it's happening.”

“You're very calm about this,” Harry said, tracing a finger over Dumbledore’s long dried words, “I wasn't nearly so calm when I found out about my prophecy.”

Alexa laughed, “I think I'm in shock. I'm going back to the time I should have been in if Pluto hadn't locked me away. And I'm going to fix Tom Riddle. And prophecies aren't as uncommon for Demigods as they are for you. My best friend in New Rome is an Augur. He cuts teddy bears up to read their entrails for omens and the god’s will.”

Harry stared at her for a moment before shrugging, “But you're going to go back? You've decided?” There were a plethora of mixed emotions in his voice, and his eyes were bright. 

“Harry, how many people won't die if I do this? Of course I'm going back.”

He looked down, frowning, “I guess that makes what I did-”

“No,” she cut him off, “I couldn't get to this unless you finished it. The only reason the drawer is open is because Voldemort, or you I suppose, died. One of Dumbledore’s plans. I never understood the man. I barely knew him.”

“I really didn't either.” Harry shoved his hands deep in his pockets. He was silent for a moment, contemplating. “If you go back and you can't stop it,” he said, suddenly sounding very small, “Can I ask you for something? Just one thing?” 

Alexa nodded, “If I fail I owe you more than that.”

“Save Sirius,” he said, “Just save Sirius.” 

“He was your godfather, wasn't he?” Alexa asked. Harry nodded tightly. “I'll save him.” She could do that. 

“Thank you,” Harry’s voice was choked. 

She nodded silently, clutching the folder to her chest. 

“Is that all about him?” Harry asked, “Do you want me to go through that and see if there’s anything missing?” He offered, “I’ll help you in any way I can.”

“Please,” Alexa said, handing it over, “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. And Ginny, actually, but I know she’s staying with her family this weekend.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, “Ginny?” he was flushing.

“She had him in her head for a year,” Alexa explained, “She’s got a different perspective.”

Harry nodded brows pushing together, “That’s for sure.” He was silent for a moment. “I’ll talk to her when I can.”

“Thank you--I don't know who else I'm going to tell about this.” She wrapped her arms around herself, and Harry put a hand on her shoulder. She had never spent a great deal of time with the Chosen One before the war, and even now this was the first time she had ever been alone with him. 

“Thank you,” he said, honestly and openly.

She nodded, “I need to go and start getting read, or figuring out how to get ready--goodnight Harry.” 

“G’night Alexa,” he replied, smiling. They parted ways and she made her way down to the dungeon. There hadn't been a lot of fighting in the bottom most level of the castle. The route to her common room was largely unscathed. It was a still place in time where only she had changed.

“Welcome,” she murmured. The wall slid aside, revealing the warm common room. While all students were now welcome in all common rooms, not many chose to visit the Slytherin. Even the Slytherins still present didn't spend a great deal of time there. Neville and some of the DA had been the only ones, and it had been a very deliberate political act. But there was something about the common room that was home for her, probably more than any other place had ever been. 

She turned the letter over in her hands, as she walked towards her dormitory, completely absorbed in thought and completely missing Draco, who was sitting by the fire.   
“Is everything okay di Angelo?” He called. Alexa jumped, whirling around. 

“Sorry,” she said, knowing he would have noticed her hand clapping down on her wand, “I didn't see you. Everything is fine.” She tucked the letter into her back pocket, and joined him on the sofa.

“Okay,” he said, he leaned back and winced.

“Peeves really got you good, huh?” she chuckled. 

He rolled his eyes, “I went off the banister, somebody had to levitate me to safety. It's a good thing Parvati was there, I rather think McLaggin would have let me fall.   
She winced, “I'm glad she was there.” They fell into silence.

“I don't think I should go to the memorial,” Draco said finally. He had his hand wrapped absently around where she knew his dark mark sat, fading day by day but still ever present. The otherwise cozy room suddenly felt far too cold.

“I think you should,” Alexa said, “It shows your support.” She had spoken with Hermione about this previously. It was, in the bushy-haired witch’s opinion, critical to get him reintegrated into society. Alexa had to agree with her. 

“Somebody tried to kill me the first time I left the castle--screamed she lost her children in the first war and her grand children in the second. People look at me and they see my father or Bellatrix.” 

Alexa winced, she remembered the incident. He had gone with Harry and herself to Hogsmeade. If Harry hadn't seen the elderly witch draw her wand, Draco wouldn't be sitting with her. The thought chilled her--Draco had been working harder than anyone in the castle, and she knew it was to make up for what he had done. And he had done terrible, awful things. But not irredeemable things. 

“You’re not either of them--and this is going to be a closed event with security, you've been invited by Kingsley. It's not the same as an open street,” she pointed out, curling her legs under her. The letter crinkled in her pocket. 

“There are going to be representatives from other Ministries, and dignitaries and-”

“Dumbledore’s Army, and anyone who fought and survived. Who know you and remember you. Harry will be there, Hermione will be there, Neville will be there, and I’ll be there.”

“Do you even think it's a good idea for you to go?” He asked, brows pushing together. 

“You worried about me Draco?” she laughed, thinking of the letter in her pocket. She was worried about herself for much different reasons. 

“Yes,” he said plainly, looking at her, “I know what the purebloods think of Demigods--a lot of them hate you. They think you're an animal.”

“They don’t hate me,” Alexa countered, “They’re afraid of me. And as long as they’re afraid of me I’ll be safe.” She shrugged, wrapping her arms around herself.

Draco shook his head, “Your overconfidence is going to get you one day,” he said, leaning back against the sofa, legs stretching out in front of him onto the coffee table. He stared contemplatively into the fire, and Alexa wondered, not for the first time, why it was always Draco she ended up having these kinds of late night conversations with. 

“And I’m sure Pluto will be so unhappy to see me he’ll send me right back. Lighten up Malfoy, I’m glad I don’t have to hide what I am anymore.” She was, truly. That had been such a sudden freedom she sometimes found herself covering her arm as a reflex. She was touched by his concern. She supposed they were friends. She liked being friends. 

He exhaled, glancing over at her,“I see why Blaise claims to be already going grey.”

She rolled her eyes, “Anyways, I think you should go.”

He sighed, “I know you’re right--I heard you and Hermione talking the other day about how a public appearance would help me and show that I support the effort.” Alexa bit her lip, she had thought she and Hermione had been alone for that one. Draco had been going out of his way to be around Hermione, constantly asking questions about the muggle world. If there was one thing that was for sure it was that Draco was adaptive.

“I’ll make sure to keep an eye out for anything,” she said, “and Kingsley has pretty tight security on the place. Not all the Death Eaters have been rounded up yet.”

“And I’m sure Pluto will be so unhappy to see me he’ll send me right back. Lighten up Malfoy, I’m glad I don’t have to hide what I am anymore. All is well.”

He exhaled, “I see why Blaise claims to be already going grey.”

She chuckled, “My bad on that one.”

“That was a long talk with McGonagall,” he said casually. 

“I had to talk to Harry after.” She didn't like the sudden shift in topic. 

He raised an eyebrow, “Nothing good happens when Potter is involved.” His tone was kidding but she knew there was a grain of truth in his words. She would have easily believed he was a demigod, from the amount of trouble that found him. 

“It's going to be fine.” Her voice was smooth despite the anxiety sinking in. 

He looked at her and narrowed his eyes, “You look like you did during the battle. What’s going on Alexa?” What was the harm in telling him really?

She exhaled and pulled the letter out of her pocket and handed it over, slouching back into the couch. 

He read it silently, his eyes growing larger and larger as he went. 

“Are you going?” He asked. She nodded, looking at the fire. 

He ran his hand through his hair, “You're braver than I ever want to be,” he said, shaking his head.

She was silent, looking into the fire. Her mind was a roar of white noise. She couldn't think, faces kept flashing in her mind. She hadn't heard from Octavian all summer, Neville, Blaise, Theo, Lavender, Padma, Draco. Suddenly everything seemed like a loss. She had built something where she was, in this time. She could feel the hysterics creeping in over her mind, and clenched her hands into fists.

Draco’s face twisted, “This is absurd,” he said plainly, “That he's still playing with us like this. We won the war, and now a letter from twenty something years ago sends you back because you're actually seventy?”

“There's a prophecy too. It’s not just Dumbledore,” she said tightly, “The gods are doing this too. He took the offered scroll and glared at the stuff writing as he read.   
Draco shook his head, “I can't believe you're doing this,” he said, meeting her eyes, “Who else knows?”

“Harry and McGonagall,” she said. 

He raised his eyebrows, “So not even the dynamic duo? Why tell me then? I wouldn't expect that--sorry,” he checked himself, something he had been doing frequently, “That's insensitive.” 

She shrugged, looking down, “You’re not going to stop me,” she said, trying to formulate why she had told him of all people, “And I understand you. I trust you.” She was silent, trying to formulate more of an answer. 

“Thank you,” Draco said, suddenly looking quite emotional. She realized she was probably the first person to say that to him, at least in quite some while. She reached out and put her hand over his, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“Mostly,” she gave him a half, teasing grin, “I suppose I should apologize for breaking your nose in second year since we’re friends and all now.”

He stared at her for a moment and burst out laughing, wrapping his own hand around hers and clutching it tightly, “That dueling class was a joke, and honestly I deserved the punch.”

“Well I certainly thought so,” she laughed.

“So you were born in America in 1931?” He asked. 

“Italy, Venice, Italy. It's fuzzy--Pluto took my memories when he put me into the hotel, but when I crossed through the River Tiberius to get into Camp Jupiter--the Demigod camp where I lived. That's where the city of New Rome is as well--it came undone.”

And suddenly she was talking and telling Draco far more than she has ever planned, and he said there listening, asking questions occasionally, laughing and joking when she told stories of the trouble she and Octavian had gotten into, sobering when she talked about her siblings.

There would be somebody who would know her story after she left. 

They fell asleep sometime in the midst of him telling her about falling off a broom and getting caught in a tree and her telling him about losing a war elephant in New Rome. 

She was going to leave the morning after the memorial. She was not going to tell Blaise and Theo. Harry and Ginny had helped massively in adding to her file on Tom Riddle. Mcgonagall had provided several yearbooks from the time, and additional school files on students. She told Neville. He was less than happy but helped her with gusto. She assembled a trunk of all the things she needed, including a few sets of clothing. The muggle dresses sent a spark of something mournful in her. She remembered a flash of something new, of clinging to a dress in the exact color and hiding behind her mother, Pluto stepping towards her. 

The person she found herself spending the most time with, oddly enough, was Draco. He helped her scour through books, and newspapers, writing notes on things that she would need to know about the wizarding world at the time, helping her put together a time line of the important dates. 

Blaise and Theo noticed something, of course, and there was a tremendous guilt towards them for not telling. Theo in particular had tried to corner her on several occasions, but Draco had taken to running interference. She appreciated him. 

The week flew by more quickly than she imagined at by the day of the memorial she felt horribly, shakingly unprepared. She was sitting on her bed in her dormitory, the same dormitory she had lived in since she was eleven, the same dormitory she would live in for the next two years fifty years ago, and felt like she was going to throw up. Her makeup was done, she was not going to cry. This was what had to be done. 

“Alexa?” Draco called from the bottom of the stair case, “Are you ready?” She inhaled sharply and rose, she had to go. 

“I’m just changing,” she said. Her voice broke and she cursed. 

“Take your time,” he called back.

Alexa inhaled and pulled on her dress. It was somewhere between traditional roman attire and dress robes. A simple black long-sleeved gown that fell to her ankles, with a dark purple tunic pulled over that hung loose at an angle and was tucked in at the waist with a black sash. To cover and mimic the robes the wizards would surely be wearing a thin black cape was fastened to her shoulders with silver buttons. Paired with black flats the effect was intimidating. Which was, admittedly her goal. But she was having second thoughts about not wearing the normal dress robes.

But what they thought of her birth didn’t matter, she would be gone by noon tomorrow. Taking a deep breath and pulling on her traveling cloak and clutch, she squared her shoulders and descended to the common room. 

Draco was waiting at the bottom of the steps, and he opened his mouth to say something when an o Blaise and Theo came galloping down the stairs.   
“Alexa!” Theo yelped, coming to a grinding hault, a goofy grin crossing his face, “You look amazing.” 

Blaise clapped him on the back, meeting her and Draco in the centers of the room, “Just as late as usual I see?” He drawled, thoroughly ignoring the blond next to her. 

Alexa rolled her eyes, bumping him with her shoulder as she move past him to the door, “Just as late as you, as usual.” The familiar banter was a comfort, but there was still a gaping wound waiting to be slit into her heart by the loss of them. 

“How are you Malfoy?” Blaise asked. Theo meanwhile had jogged to keep up with her. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, “You've been practically nonexistent this week.” 

“Sorry,” she flashed a smile, “It’s just there's been so much to do--and with the memorial...” she trailed off shrugging. She hated to have to lie to him but she knew if she let herself be around him all week she would never have had the strength to leave. 

He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close against his chest as they walked, “I know.”

The familiar smell of him was overwhelming, and tears pushed at her eyes but she blinked them back. None of that. 

He released her before they entered the Great Hall, and Draco was swiftly by her side. 

“Keep steady,” he murmured under his breath. She nodded. The great hall had been set up with temporary Floo Travel points. Four stone fireplaces, tall enough to stand inside in pairs of two, had been set up at different corners of the room. She and Draco stood in line behind Theo and Blaise, and Alexa positively felt like she was choking. Draco stood close enough for their shoulders to brush, and he kept glancing down at her. She stared straight ahead, focused only on her destination.

“Alright! You two next!” Flitwick squeaked, urging the pair forwards. Together they stood in the fireplace, and Draco took the offered floo powder. 

“The Ministry of Magic,” he said clearly, and they were gone. 

Floo powder was by far her least favorite way to travel. It was like being tied to a spinning top, and when it finally ceased she was left swaying and dizzy. 

“Ready?” Draco asked, she nodded, posture rigid. 

He offered her his arm, both for his own sake and hers, and she took it gladly, and together they entered the ministry. There was a great glittering fountain, with abstract figures meant to represent different creatures, around which people were milling. There were waiters with polished trays of drinks and appetizers. She held Draco’s arm more tightly, and with expert ease he plucked two glasses of something from a passing tray and handed one to her. 

“Big turnout,” he said. She looked at him, realizing his hands were shaking. She turned and locked eyes with a man staring at them with disgust on his face. He went white and quickly turned away. 

“Yeah,” she agreed, sipping her drink and giving the arm she still held a squeeze, “It is.”

Draco exhaled, and stood a bit taller. 

“There you are!” Harry came sliding over to them looking rather flustered, emerging from a dense mob of people, “I was looking for you.” 

“We just got here,” Alexa filled in, glancing back at the mob. Several were muttering amongst themselves, and Harry glanced over his shoulder, clearly annoyed.

“They won’t leave me alone,” he said, “I got separated from Ginny and I can’t--oh! There she is!” Harry ducked off, much to Alexa’s amusement. 

For the majority of the night, Draco and Alexa stayed side by side. They were avoided by and large, which worked for Harry because whenever he seemed to become overwhelmed he would surely appear at their side.

Andromeda Tonks came as well, toting baby Teddy in her arms. She had only met the woman a scant few times. She was Draco’s aunt, and Teddy was Harry’s godson. She supposed that made Draco and Harry family on some strange level, but she wasn’t entirely sure how that worked. 

By the time the speeches were done, and all the necessary hands had been shaken, Teddy was fast asleep in his godfather’s arms, Andromeda looking fondly, and a bit teary eyed, over them. 

“You had better be a bit tamer than your godfather,” she said sternly, “Sirius was always such a wild boy.”

“Yes Andromeda,” Harry said obediently. Most of the guests had filed away, and the waiters had begun to stack the chairs that lined the room. Alexa distanced herself from the group, standing beside the fountain, looking up at the featureless, smooth form of what was surely meant to be an abstract centaur.

“Do you want to hold him Draco?” Harry’s voice came, and she glanced back just in time to see Draco’s panicked expression as Harry deposited the sleeping baby into his arms. 

“You’re doing fine dear,” Andromeda said soothingly. Alexa turned back around and ignored the pang in her chest. 

“They used to have faces, you know.” Harry’s voice just behind her startled her, “But when we fought in the ministry the fountain was destroyed--I like this one better.” He offered her a glass of a dark amber liquid, and she took it. She didn’t think the waiters were giving out drinks anymore, but he was the chosen one after all.

“It’s nice,” she agreed. 

“Tomorrow’s the day, isn’t it?” he asked. She sighed, looking at him. The anxiety was coiled tight in her stomach, but she nodded. 

“Do you think I can change him? Do you think it’s possible?” she asked, not sure if she really wanted an answer. 

“I don’t know when Tom Riddle truly became Voldemort. I think by the time I asked him to regret what he had done he was beyond that. He was beyond help and beyond saving. But I think you have a shot at saving him.” Harry sipped his drink, a look settling into his eyes that made him look far older than he should.

“Does he deserve saving?”

“Nobody deserves saving,” Harry chuckled, “Some of us just get lucky.”

Alexa laughed, looking up at the face of the wizard, eyes damper than before, “To being lucky,” she held out her glass, and Harry tapped his against it.  
“To being lucky,” he agreed. 

She looked back now, out into the clearing room. She saw Blaise and Theo and Daphne, all laughing together. Neville and Luna sitting intimately together, Neville listening carefully to whatever Luna was saying, and Ginny joining the conversation, the grim expression of a survivor lingering in her eyes even when she smiled. She saw Ron and Hermione, arms around each other as they leaned against a wall, saying nothing, just standing close. 

Suddenly everything and everyone seemed like potential. Everyone had a path together and a future to live out. Things would change as soon as she left, but some things were meant to be. She saw Draco, a warmth in his eyes that she had never seen as he looked down at his cousin nestled in his arms. And maybe she saw a glimpse of a man she could have loved, if Fate weren’t such a goddamn bitch. 

“I’m going to head out,” Harry said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow Harry. Thank you,” she was earnest, “For helping me.”

“I think I should be the one who’s thanking you,” He said, flashing a grin. And then he left. Draco handed Teddy back to Andromeda, and appeared at her side. 

“I think we should head back,” he said quietly, placing his hand on the small of her back. 

“Yes,” she agreed, “Last night.” Draco pursed his lips, but nodded. They flooed back to the castle, and back to the Slytherin common room. Blaise and Theo were sitting asleep on the sofa, still in their dress robes. They had left long before Alexa had. 

She looked at them fondly, and Draco lingered at her side.

“I’m going to miss them,” she whispered, blinking tears out of her eyes.

“They’ll be okay. You’re going to make things better for them,” Draco whispered back. She nodded, turning and looking up at him. 

“Thank you,” she said honestly.

He smiled, “‘Course. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m not letting Potter send you off without me.” She chuckled, and they parted ways. 

She snuck back up to her dorm to change, carefully folding the dress into the trunk she was taking with her. It was filled to the brim with notes and books and files. The letters, all of them, the prophecy, and the potion, were all carefully tucked away inside a smaller box placed inside. There were scant clothes, dresses from the past and some modern things she had packed in. She would never be able to wear them but she couldn’t bare to leave everything behind. There were pictures too, from her years at school and her summers at camp. Looking at the trunk made her chest ache, and she shut it quickly. She pulled on a ratty old t-shirt and some sweatpants, and pulled the comforter off her bed. Padding barefoot down to the common room, she curled up between her boys, pulled the blanket over the three of them, and fell asleep.

Tomorrow all of this would be gone.


	11. Fortuna be with Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the deed is done

June 23, 1998

Alexa woke up curled against Theo, with Blaise's head resting in her lap. Both were fast asleep, and she contemplated closing her eyes again, but with a sudden icy realization she remembered what would happen today.

She must have woken Theo up, because he yawned, looking down at her in surprise.

"G'morning," he said, looking around blearily.

"Morning," she responded, keeping the quiver out of her voice.

Blaise groaned from her lap, "Bloody hell it's too early for this," he grumbled.

She chuckled, "It's not that early," in truth she had no idea what time it was, but her statement vexed Blaise in a very satisfying way.

"Bloody Americans," he huffed, sitting up and readjusting her comforter.

"We were waiting up for you," Theo clarified, as if it needed clarification, "I guess we didn't quite manage the up part."

"Not quite," she agreed.

"Still," Blaise shrugged, leaning back and closing his eyes. She smiled fondly, her heart squeezing painfully tight in her chest. This might be the last time she ever saw them. She wanted to remember this moment, right where she was. But a quick glance at Theo's watch told her she had mere hours before she would be gone. It was time to move.

"I'm going to go get dressed, I've got some things I need to get done today," she said. She turned and kissed Theo's cheek, and then Blaise's. Theo's eyes went wide and Blaise gave her a mistrusting look.

"Be good, love you guys." She rose and left the room.

"I'll never be tamed!" Blaise yelled as she ran up the stairs. Theo remained silent.

She showered. She meticulously brushed her teeth. She dried her hair and brushed it, taking time to pin it back carefully, like she remembered her mother wearing. She applied make up, so far from any way she had ever done it the routine seemed foreign. With mechanical precision she pulled the red dress with long sleeves, the one that reminded her of her mother, over her head. She added the stockings, just like she remembered seeing in the shops when she was young, and the short black heels. Every action she took felt final, and totally unfamiliar. There would be no going back after today. She looked at herself in the mirror and her mind went back to the boggart. She tried to find some of her mother in her face. Something in the curve of her brows and the slope of her nose. It was there. But there was still too much of her father.

But the image of herself in the mirror was one she remembered hoping for as a child. The dress, the elegant hair, the shoes. She remembered how the women looked when she was young, and thinking how beautiful they all were. How she hoped one day she would be as elegant. She didn't know if she achieved it, but she was certain she looked the part for the time period.

She double checked her trunk. Made sure everything was there. On impulse she crammed in a few more sets of her modern clothes. She checked that she had the key to her vault. She checked again. She dropped into the shadows, trunk in hand, and stepped out at the room of requirement. That was where they were going to do it. She was positive McGonagall, Harry, Ginny, Neville, and Draco were all at breakfast still.

She had been wrong.

Neville was sitting on a couch on the far side of the room, anxiously bouncing his leg, a covered platter on the coffee table in front of him.

"You always skip breakfast when something big is going to happen," Neville said casually, although his voice was thick with emotion, "I thought I'd bring you some."

Alexa bit her lip, tears collecting in the corners of her eyes, "Nev," she sniffled.

"Hey, hey!" Neville rose quickly, a note of panic in his voice as he leapt up and pulled her into a bone crunching hug, "None of that. Well, some of that but you know what I mean-" She wordlessly hugged him back, burying her face in his shoulder.

"Thank you," she said, when they parted. He clapped his hand on her shoulder and gave her a watery smile.

"Course." Was all he said.

He helped her drag her trunk so it wouldn't be in the way and together they sat down. Neville had brought breakfast for them both, complete with coffee. She was immensely grateful to him, for so many things. They chatted, mostly about nothing, for a long time. But the topic couldn't be avoided forever.

"Are you ready?" He asked quietly, as she sipped her coffee.

She exhaled, setting it down, "As I'll ever be." She couldn't express to him the pounding in her chest, the fear rising in her veins, spiking and crashing like the tide. She wanted to run, to run for miles just to let it escape her system. But she had nowhere to go but through.

"You're going to be okay," Neville said firmly, looking her in the eye, "I've seen you do things I never thought were possible-you've taken on dementors and giants and even made a good first impression on my gran!" Alexa laughed, and Neville grinned and powered on, "You've got this under control, and you'll have Dumbledore there to help you."

"That's true, provided he'll trust me," she sighed, "Maybe I'll be able to find out how he found me-I don't know how I got a Hogwarts letter to begin with. Hopefully I can find out who collected the prophecy too."

Neville nodded, "You can do it!" His limitless faith in her filled her with a new sense of determination.

"I can do it," she agreed.

"That's the spirit," a voice drawled from the door.

"Draco," Alexa jumped, "Goodmorning." He gave her a tight smile, and sat down on the couch next to her.

"Don't worry," he said, "I'm early. There's still some time."

She exhaled and leaned back against the couch.

"Okay," her voice was barely a whisper. Neville and Draco exchanged a look.

"You can still say no," Draco said.

She turned to look at him sharply, "I'm not backing out."

Draco gave her a wry smile, "I didn't think you would. You look nice, by the way. The color suits you."

"Thank you," she smoothed her skirt, "My mother had a dress like this, I think."

The door opened again, and this time it was Harry and Ginny.

Alexa rose, expecting it to be time, and for McGonagall to be behind them, but all she was met with was a flurry of red hair as Ginny threw her arms around her.

"You're going to be great," the ginger witch assured her. Alexa blinked back tears, and Ginny furiously rubbed her eyes, "But Merlin be careful."

"When am I not?" She chuckled. Ginny gave her a sharp look that matched the raised eyebrow from Draco and the snort from Neville.

"Oh come on!" Alexa laughed.

"We have gifts for you!" Ginny then declared, plopping herself on the loveseat adjacent to the sofa. Harry sat next to her, nodding.

"We thought, since this is your send off, we should do something," Harry said.

Alexa blinked back tears, "You didn't have to-"

"Oh sod off and enjoy your presents," Draco said firmly, patting the cushion next to him. She sat, shaking her head.

"Thank you," was all she said.

"Here!" Ginny said, handing her a small wrapped box. Alexa opened it, grinning at what she found inside.

"Luna helped me with them," Ginny explained, as Alexa pulled out two bottle cap earrings painted with what looked like a scarlet Pygmy puff in the center of each.

"I thought, since you couldn't say goodbye to her, this was as close as it could get," Ginny filled in.

"They're perfect, thank you," Alexa said, putting them in immediately.

Neville handed her a packet of envelopes tied together, "They're letters," he explained, "to read when you need them. Just different things-I didn't know what else..." he shrugged.

Alexa took the letters, blinking back tears for what felt like the hundredth time that day. She had never been given something so thoughtful. "Thank you," she said, hugging him briefly.

"Alright alright, my turn," Draco produced a small box from the folds of his robes.

Alexa opened the box, eyes growing wide at the locket inside. The chain was silver and delicate and the locket itself was circular, with a serpent winding around the edge.

"It can only be opened by you," Draco explained, "You can put whatever you want in it, and it will fit. It's empty now-I think it needs to be for the trip, but once you're there you can use it. I thought it might be useful."

"It's beautiful," she murmured, "Help me put it on?"

Draco nodded, and she handed the locket to him before turning away and lifting her hair. He brought it gently around her neck, and clasped it behind her. The trail of his fingers on her skin made her shiver.

"It looks nice," he nodded to himself.

"Thank you," she hugged him tightly, surprising him.

"You're welcome Di Angelo," he said, returning the embrace.

"This is from all of us," Harry said next, handing her a heavy wrapped rectangle.

"It was Potter's idea," Draco added. Harry flushed, but nodded, shrugging.

Alexa opened it. It was a thin book, and she opened it, stopping short at the first page. It was a photo album. The first photo filled the page, and she recognized it immediately. It was Dumbledore's army. They had taken a picture, all of them together, with Colin Creevey's camera. The rest of the book was filled with photos from her previous years at Hogwarts, from the Yule ball to the out of control Halloween party that had become a legend. The faces smiled and waved up at her from the paper, and she couldn't help the tears that began to trickle down her cheeks.

"Thank you," was all she could say as Neville and Ginny promptly hugged her, Ginny practically climbing into Draco's lap to do so. Draco protested loudly, causing Ginny to loudly scold him for not joining the group hug, which he then grudgingly did. Which prompted Neville to say that Harry should join as well but he would prefer it if he didn't sit on his lap.

Which is why when McGonagall walked into the room she found a pile of misty eyed teenagers all climbing on top of one another on the sofa.

She pressed her lips together, but there was amusement in her eyes. They parted, and Alexa stood, flanked by her friends, facing her kind eyed professor.

"It's time, Miss Di Angelo," McGonagall said. Alexa nodded firmly, wiping her tears away and squaring her shoulders. McGonagall turned, and began preparing the room for her departure, and Alexa quickly put the photo album and Neville's letters into the trunk, giving it one last once over, before latching it shut with visceral finality.

Neville and Draco picked it up, laying it where McGonagall directed it in the center of a rune outline that had been burned into the floor. She had gone through this meticulously with her former professor, she would have to stand on the trunk, there was only so much room within the spell.

"Do you have the potion, have you added your blood?" McGonagall asked.

"Yes, it's all packed and ready," Alexa said. Ginny stood next to her and squeezed her hand.

"You can do this," Ginny said. There was some of her old fire back in her brown eyes, like there had been before the battle.

"We're ready," McGonagall said. She regarded her students with a stern gaze, but her care was unmistakable.

Neville pulled her into one last hug, murmuring reassurances into her hair. Draco surprised her next by hugging her just as tightly, whispering good luck in her ear. Ginny was next, and she was wiping back tears when she pulled away.

"Give him hell for me, okay?" she said thickly.

"Of course," Alexa smiled.

Harry, whom she still barely knew, offered her his hand, "Thank you," was all he said. She shook it, nodding.

Draco offered his hand and helped her step up onto the trunk, and then they all stepped back, outside the boundary of the circle of runes.

"Whenever you're ready," McGonagall said.

Alexa nodded, taking a deep breath. She turned to her friends, trying to freeze the image of them standing there together in her mind, trying to remember the warmth of being between Blaise and Theodore. Trying to imagine camp, and the faces she would miss.

"Thank you," she said, for what felt like the millionth time that morning, "For being my friends. I will never forget you, and I hope you're happy in the lives you lead." She gave them a smile, forcing herself not to cry. She turned to McGonagall, nodded, and raised her wand.

"Tempus Motus!" the two witches cried together. The runes on the floor began to glow a brilliant blue, and wind swirled around Alexa until she felt like she was trapped in a tornado. A thick grey mist began to rise, twisting up in the wind until she could no longer see her friends, or indeed anything. A great fire seemed to rip through her body, burning hot and painful. A scream tore through her lips, and she swayed dangerously. Through sheer willpower she stayed on her feet. And then suddenly, everything seemed to freeze. The howling wind, the fog, the fire. It just stopped. And then the grey walls around her collapsed, falling to the floor with a sonic boom that left her ears ringing. Alexa gasped, and tumbled from the trunk, landing hard on her knees and hands. She panted, eyes closed, barely able to think. Slowly, she pushed herself to her feet, every muscle in her body burning.

And there Alexa was. Standing alone in the room of requirement.

It was the room, but there was nothing but white. Endless, pristine, shadowless white. She closed her eyes against the blinding darkness. She needed a door. When she opened her eyes, one had appeared. It was plain and wooden, like a broom closet. She exhaled and put her wand into the holster in her sleeve. Opening her trunk, she knelt in front of it and stared blankly at it's contents. She shook herself, reminding herself that it was done and she was there and it was for the greater good and pulled out the letter for Dumbledore, along with her papers to apply to Hogwarts, and a small handbag containing her Gringotts key. She shut the trunk, and leaned forward, curiously opening her locket. She pressed the corner of the trunk into the black, endless depths. With a slight swooshing sound, the trunk vanished into the jewelry. She would never see Draco again. Alexa squared her shoulders, heart pounding, scarcely able to think, and went through the door.

It was Hogwarts. But it was whole. She ran her hand along the wall where, in her time, the stone had been blown back and charred. She reached out, feeling for Dumbledore. She got lucky, he was in the castle. He was in McGonagall's office, or rather, his office. That would take some getting used to. She didn't want to give herself time to think about that.

Her heels clacked through the empty corridors, and she shivered. She had never seen the castle that empty. The view from the windows told her it was early morning, perhaps around eight or nine.

She stood outside the door, presently painted a pleasant periwinkle. The professor had apparently always been an eccentric. She rapped sharply three times.

"Come in," came a familiar voice.

She stepped through, and was quite suddenly taken aback. There was Dumbledore, more a legend than a real man in her time, perched on a ladder on his desk trying to coax Fawkes the Phoenix down from the high rafters. His hair was not yet it's pearlescent white, but rather a fading red, greying into a strawberry blond.

"You'll have to excuse me, I wasn't expecting a visitor today," Dumbledore said, glancing down at her with twinkling blue eyes over halfmoon spectacles, "My bird is rather badly behaved, and has taken my favorite quill hostage. To whom do I owe the pleasure?"

"Alessandra di Angelo, sir. I apologize for coming unannounced. I have a rather important letter for you that had to be delivered in person." At that precise moment, Fawkes swooped from the rafter to land heavily on her shoulder. She jumped at the sudden weight, but the bird only nibbled her ear.

"My goodness, I've never seen him do that. He seems to have taken quite a liking to you," he said, suddenly grave, "It's argued if that's a good or bad omen. I," he began to climb down the precariously perched ladder, "personally take it as a good one." He smiled, hopping from his desk and offering his hand. "Professor Albus Dumbledore," he said kindly, "Although something tells me you already know that." She could see in his eyes there was something guarded in his expression.

She handed him the letter, careful not to jostle Fawkes, "You may want to sit down."

He stared at the letter for a long moment, "This wax seal," he said, keeping his voice calm, "There are only two in existence. One is buried with my father. And the other, he tapped the heavy silver signet ring on his finger, "Doesn't leave my sight. Who is this letter from."

"Open it," she urged, "then I'll answer your questions." She sat down on one side of the desk, and Fawkes leapt onto the perch sitting on the surface. Dumbledore, now looking very serious indeed, sat down in his chair across from her.

He tore the envelope open, and scanned the letter, eyes growing wider and wider. He pressed his hand over his mouth, and she swore she saw tears growing in his eyes. Several minutes passed as he composed himself a reread the letter.

"Miss Di Angelo," he said quietly, removing his glasses and meeting her eyes, "Hello again, I suppose."

"Professor Dumbledore," she responded, "it's good to see you." Even though she knew it wasn't true, it was hard not to equate Dumbledore with safety. She owed this man her education, her path to the wizarding world. Even if she had spent very little time with him, he was still the one responsible for where she was.

"Do you swear to me it is true?" He said, eyes growing manic, "This letter, nobody but I could have written it. Do you swear to me it contains the truth, that one of my students will grow to become a dark wizard the likes of which this world has ever seen?"

"I have the scars to prove it. What did the letter tell you?" She leaned forward.

"It told me something only I could ever know, and that you were here from the future, and how complex your life has been and what I must do to aid you. And that you have come to stop Voldemort, whoever he may be."

She nodded, "It's true, all of it."

He shook his head, scanning the letter, "A demigod, he murmured, "How did you get into Hogwarts?" He asked.

"You, sir. You were headmaster, and you contacted me to offer me a place at this school. I don't know how you found out about me, although I suspect there was some godly influence," she didn't have any other explanation.

Dumbledore nodded, his eyebrows pressed together. He steepled his fingers and looked at her, seeming to see right through her.

"I promise that I will help you in anyway I can-but if any harm befalls any of my students I will see to it personally that you are removed from this castle."

Alexa bristled, looking at him with hard eyes, "Out of anyone I know, you've caused the most harm to the students in this castle." She inhaled, forcing herself to be calm, she didn't need to make an enemy out of Albus Dumbledore.

He gave her a look of acute sadness, and incline his head, acknowledging her.

"I have papers for my entry to Hogwarts, you prepared them yourself," she slid them across the desk to Dumbledore's waiting fingertips.

"I'll arrange them with Armando-Armando Dippet is the current Headmaster," he added. Alexa nodded, aware of this fact.

"Will you be staying in the castle?" Dumbledore continued on.

"No," she said, "I'll be staying at the Leaky Cauldron, I have business in London-what's the date?" she added. McGonagall had warned her that time travel was not an exact practice, and that she would only be landing within an approximate boundary.

"August 24th, 1942. Seven days until term starts," he responded.

Yesterday had been her birthday then. Strange. She would have been 18. Or at least near there, she was never sure how old she actually was.

"I'm just in time then," she gave a small smile.

"Indeed," Dumbledore was pouring over the documents sitting on the table, "You're going to be a transfer from America, and you are the grandchild of an old friend of mine who passed recently. His children are dead," Dumbledore looked at her once more, "Are you familiar with this story?" he asked.

"Yes sir," she responded, "I went over it thoroughly."

He nodded, "You will be resorted in the sorting ceremony, although I assume your house will remain the same. What house were you in, if I may ask?"

"Slytherin sir," she answered. She was beginning to get a splitting headache right in her temple and it was growing harder and harder to ignore.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows but nodded, "I'll get this in order. It will be no trouble to get you admitted, Armando has a soft spot a mile wide." He smiled, admiration clear in his voice. Alexa noted that but only nodded, smiling.

"Thank you sir," she said, rising, "I need to get to London. I'll be in the Leaky Cauldron if you need to reach me."

"You'll receive an owl some time today with your school letter. Be careful, Miss Di Angelo."

"I always am," she smiled brightly, and then, because she could, vanished into the shadows right before his eyes.

Her first stop was Gringotts. She exited the shadow in a shady corner of Knockturn Alley and briskly marched through, entering the glistening Diagon Alley. It took her breath away, just as it had the first time she had seen it. It was different, there were shops she didn't recognize, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was obviously missing, as were things she had grown familiar with. Gringotts was, however, much the same as ever. White marble, miles high, and imposing as anything she had ever seen. She pushed through the doors and made her way to the teller's window.

The goblin gave her a look up and down, before sneering asking for her key. Goblins, she suspected, knew she was not just a witch. But, they didn't seem to care, as long as your accounts were in order and you had your key. She had both, thankfully. She went down through the many spiraling passages, and the goblin, whose name she did not know, watched her with dark, baleful eyes as she handed him her key and he opened her vault. There were piles and piles of gold inside, more than she could ever count and more than she could ever use. Pluto was the god of wealth found underground. By all accounts, he could be the patron saint of Gringotts. Maybe that's why they never said anything about her lineage. Either way, she scooped up what she would need to buy her books and robes, and put it in a brown pull string sack, and then placed that in her handbag. The goblin lead her back to the surface, and on her merry way she went.

She booked a room at the Leaky Cauldron. It seemed she would never know how old the bar-keep Tom truly was, because he was still the bar-keep in this time, and still looked old. Perhaps not as old, but still old.

She stood in the empty room that was to be hers for the next few days. It was impersonal, but cozy, With a fireplace she didn't currently need, and mismatched pillow cases. She removed the trunk from the locket, summoning it with her wand. It landed with an almighty thump on the ground, right at the foot of her bed. She stared at it for a moment. Everything she owned, everything she had, was currently contained in that one trunk. She swallowed, a lump forming in her throat. She needed to keep moving.

She dropped into the shadows and emerged in a dark alley several blocks from the Leaky Cauldron. She had memorized the map to where Tom Riddle would be. She was not at all sure if she was ready to see him. So she squared her shoulders, and concealed herself with shadows. To any passer by, she would be completely invisible. She exited the alley, and stood at once in front of Wool's Orphanage. It was a square building of greying brick, with high railings all around it. She walked through the gate, and straight through the faded front door. The inside surprised her. She had always imagined orphanages as dismal places with malnourished children and wicked managers, but the inside was warm. It was run down, yes, but it was clean, and she could hear the laughter of children echoing through the walls. Two children ran by her, a curly blond haired girl and a giggling boy who was at least a few years younger, and they both looked well fed. Their clothes were mended, but not in any disrepair. She wondered, for a moment, how she was going to search the whole building, when the door opened behind her.

And he heart promptly stopped and it took everything she could to quell the wave of hatred that mounted through her.

Tom Riddle stood in the doorway, backlit by the sun, a look of irritation on his face. He was much like the picture she had. Chestnut hair that fell perfectly somewhere between a wave and a curl, dark eyes that smoldered under a strong brow. His jaw was defined, his lips looked like they had been carved by an artist. He was handsome, but there was something ruthless in the way he held himself. He seemed tight, coiled. Like at any second he was expecting somebody to attack him, and he was ready to respond with deadly force. It unsettled her, especially when his eyes landed on where she stood, for just the briefest second too long. The children from early, who had been absolutely ecstatic with themselves, stopped short, peeking out from another room as Tom looked around.

She wasn't afraid of him, she found. Not like she had been afraid of Voldemort at least. She had some power over him, even if he didn't know it. And that was a comfort to her.

He slipped his shoes off, and made his way up the stairs, practically jogging in his haste to get wherever it was he was going. Alexa took off after him, following him up several flights of stairs until finally they reached a small landing, with only a single door at the far end of it. Alexa was sure this must be the attic, and could not fathom what business he had in there.

But he opened the door and it was a small bedroom. There was a twin bed with a grey blanket on one side, with a desk on the opposite wall. There was a tiny window on the wall between the two, under which sat a bookshelf. It was crammed full of tattered copies of classics she recognized. Jane Austen, Shakespeare, and Dickens. Apparently Voldemort was well read.

As soon as the door shut behind him, he relaxed. The tension fell out of his shoulders, and he dropped his shoes at the foot of his bed. He walked over to the tiny desk, noticing that it had a book under one of the legs to keep it steady. He picked up a quill, dipped it in ink, and scratched something off on a piece of paper that was pinned to the wall. Upon closer inspection she found it to be a calendar, counting down the days until September first.

He sighed, "Just a few more days," he murmured. She was struck by the sound of his voice. She knew, logically, that it would not be the same as the one she had known in the future, but he sounded so...normal. Everything about him seemed so horrendously normal. She was surprised, however, by his accent. It was thick, and very much east end London. It had a thick, rounded sound that she had never quite gotten used to hearing. It reminded her of the chimney sweeps from Mary Poppins, although she knew they were highly inaccurate.

He kneeled on the floor then, flipping up the threadbare rug in the center of the room to reveal worn floorboards. With some careful jiggling, Riddle dislodged one of the boards and withdrew a black, leather bound book. He set it carefully beside him, and then pulled out a second object. His wand.

Alexa flinched back, despite herself. He wasn't going to hurt her, he didn't know she was there. He looked at it longingly, running thin fingers over its length, before sighing once more and setting it back into the floorboards with particular care.

"Soon," he repeated. He picked up the book, and Alexa suddenly recognized it. It was the diary she had seen in McGonagall's office. The one Harry Potter had destroyed years ago. It would become a Horcrux. Did he actually use it as a diary? He sat down at the desk, opening the book and once again picking up his quill. Curiosity winning over her immense desire to stay as far away from him as physically possible, she crept closer and peeked over his shoulder.

Work was awful again, it would be so much easier with magic. All muggles do is toil about, but for what?

His writing was neat and elegant, and pristine. He did use the book as a diary. She would need to gain access to that. Perhaps she could steal the book long enough to duplicate it. That would be her plan then.

She had seen enough, she decided. She would have to meet him sooner rather than later. But, she checked her watch, at least she knew he came back from work at approximately four. She slipped away, and appeared back in her room at the Leaky Cauldron.


	12. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which first impressions are made.

Alexa stood in a long, dark chamber of grey stone. They were rough hewn, medieval. They reminded her of Hogwarts, but moisture dripped around her, a deafening sound in the otherwise perfect stillness. There were columns on either side of her, on which torches hung. It was the only source of light in the room, they were underground she was sure, she could sense it. As she stepped forwards the weight of her long skirts kept her from moving quickly, and she felt stuck, like something was trying to drag her away from whatever sat just beyond the light, just beyond what she could see. She pushed forward, regardless, and suddenly out of nowhere, a great stone face loomed over her. The face was at least twenty feet tall, and that of an old man. It was a stern face, it was a face without fear. His great beard and long hair stretched out along the stone, and his mouth gaped open. She stood, frozen in fear, unable to move. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears, she could feel her hands shaking. But she couldn't scream. She could only watch in horror as two bright yellow eyes appeared from the darkness of the gaping maw, and a beastly snake emerged. It slithered endlessly it seemed, emerald green and hissing. It opened it's mouth and she saw fangs as big as her forearm, dripping with venom. The monster curled behind her, blocking her escape. It went around the room, until it's head sat next to that of the old man, and it stopped and stared at her. It's tail still sat on the other side of the man's face, making a complete loop. She was trapped. From the mouth of the face came a man dressed in robes unlike those she had ever seen outside of a history book. They were black, fading to dark green, and trimmed in silver. Around his neck he war a heavy silver locket, and on his hand was a ring with a heavy dark stone. But it was his face that finally broke her silence and made her cry out. His hair was chestnut, his eyes were dark, staring at her in fascination as he walked closer. His skin was snow white, and his face was handsome. There was cruelty in his smile as he raised his wand and-

September 1,1942

Alexa woke in a cold sweat, gasping for air. It had just been a dream. There was no chamber with Tom Riddle waiting at the end for her. She wiped a strand of damp hair from her forehead, and forced herself to sit up. She hadn't had nightmares like that since her time in the Room of Requirement. She pushed herself out of bed, ignoring the room she was in, and ignoring the papers scattered on the quilt and the floor. She had fallen asleep reading about Tom Riddle. That was probably why she had the dream. Hopefully nothing more sinister was happening.

As she showered and dressed she contemplated her plan. There was anxiety building inside her, like a snake coiled round her chest. It made it hard to breath. She looked at herself in the mirror in the corner of the room. Green dress, still long sleeved. Slightly more youthful in the cut. Her hair was down, dark and curling down to her waist, in an effort to make her features less severe. She would have to pass as a fifteen year old. Three years older and battle weary, there was a leanness to her face that she couldn't alter, but with her hair framing it differently she thought she was passable. Once she had her uniform on it would be better.

Today was the day after all. She packed her room with a wave of her wand, all the files and yearbooks and supplies she had brought from the future going in her locket, along with her old clothes. In her trunk she packed her uniforms, her textbooks, her 40s costumes. Looking at it she felt a pang of nostalgia. How many times had she packed it, bouncing with excitement at another year of magic? For the first time ever, she dreaded going to Hogwarts.

Her most recent letter from Dumbledore was the last thing she put away. He had pulled a favor for her. Tom Riddle had become a prefect this year, and Dumbledore was putting him in charge of her so to speak. He would be waiting for her at the train station to make sure she managed. Her life was going to consist of a lot of playing dumb, she feared. She'd probably have to pretend to get lost in the castle a few times for good measure. She wondered how Riddle felt about his task, and if he would simply ditch her the first chance he got. At least it gave her an excuse to latch on to him.

She closed her eyes, gripping the bed post for support and trying to pretend her heart wasn't trying to beat out of her chest. She could do this. She had come all this way, she had damn well do it. Do it for them, she reminded herself. For Neville and Blaise and Draco and so many others.

She checked her wristwatch. It was 10:15 AM. She was set to meet Tom Riddle at 10:30 AM, and the train left at precisely 11 AM. She rolled her neck, grabbed her trunk, which she had charmed to have wheels, and rocked back into the shadows. Less than a minute later she emerged, not worrying about the surrounding muggles, for she knew the mist would hide her. If only wizards realized that. Of course, then they would have to acknowledge that they were nowhere near as subtle or sneaky as they thought. She rolled her trunk to Platform 9 ¾, hands steady and eyes sharp. She stood next to the platform entrance, looking around and somewhat relieved that she had beaten him there.

"Are you Alessandra di Angelo?" a voice called in a pristine and polished accent. She flinched and looked up from her thoughts.

Tom Riddle stood there in front of her, thick chestnut hair curling around his pale face. His eyes were dark and penetrating under immaculately arching eyebrows. His nose was straight, not to sharp or too rounded, his cheeks were high, and his lips a balanced full. Exactly like the picture, but so unlike the future.

She forced herself to smile, "Yes, I am, it's just Alexa though. You must be Tom Riddle," she offered her hand and he shook it cordially, a polite smile on his face.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, I hope you'll enjoy your time at our school." He was charming, not overbearing but not cold. The accent, which she knew was not his own, was flawless. He was dressed nicely, far nicer than his station. He must have saved for the clothes. They were passably muggle but adding a cloak over it, nobody would suspect that he wasn't a wizard. It was the same technique she employed, as soon as she realized the Slytherins weren't fond of anyone who wasn't from their aristocracy.

"Thank you, you as well. I'm excited to be here," she replied just as smoothly.

"Shall we?" he asked, gesturing, "Ladies first," he said coyly.

She nodded, slipping through the barrier. He followed close behind with his own trunk.

She looked around, warmth in her chest. The platform was bustling with families, from the eldest grandmother to the tiniest tot. Children swarmed about, chattering excitedly, rushing to hug friends. The sun was brightly shining and the Hogwarts Express gleamed, and everything seemed rosy. She watched a cluster of second years jump together, one girl's pigtails bouncing more than she thought possible. Her breath caught in her throat. She used to wear her hair like that, and gods she remembered coming back to school for her second year and running to Blaise and Theo, throwing her arms around them-

"Are you alright?" Riddle asked.

"Hm?" she jumped, startled to find him far too close. "Yes, sorry. It's just new." She laughed, "I feel a bit like they do I guess," she nodded towards some first years who were looking around in wonder at their surroundings, gasping excitedly to their parents.

He seemed satisfied with her answer, "Wait until you see the castle," there seemed to be genuine excitement in his voice, "This is nothing compared to that."

She grinned, "I can't wait." She wished he wouldn't stand so close.

"Tom," a drawling voice called. They both turned to find a boy their age, with short-cropped white-blond hair and a pale pinched face strolling towards them. She recognized him from the yearbook she had. And even if she hadn't, he certainly resembled his grandson enough that she could easily guess.

"Abraxas," Tom replied, the two boys shook hands, and Alexa stood to the side waiting to be introduced.

"How was your summer?" Abraxas asked with a careless air. She studied Riddle's face closely. It was a mask of courtesy, but but there was a slight twist in his lips that hinted at distaste. Abraxas was clearly to self obsessed to notice.

"Dull, as usual," Riddle chuckled, "This is Alexa di Angelo," he gestured to her and she stepped forward, offering the blond boy her hand, "She's a transfer student. She's been sorted into Slytherin."

"Pleasure to meet you," she said, smiling and shaking his hand.

"Abraxas Malfoy," he looked slightly more interested in her, "You're from America?" he asked.

"Yes, from California, on the West Coast." That's where camp was anyways.

"Really? How charming," Abraxas said, "The muggles there are quite queer."

She chuckled, "I suppose so."

"I'll see you in the usual compartment," Riddle interjected.

Abraxas nodded, and waved a hand as he departed. The casual dismissal of Abraxas surprised her. Riddle held more social power than she had anticipated. The Slytherins in her day were all about rank, and it was clear that Riddle ranked higher. She could never imagine anyone dismissing Draco like that.

"Malfoy is an old Pureblood name, isn't it?" she asked.

Riddle sighed, "Indeed it is." But that's all he said on the topic. "Shall we?" he asked, nodding towards the train.

She nodded, and the two boarded. Their trunks went to the luggage rack, and he lead her down the train. Suddenly a compartment door slammed open and a giggling girl, still looking over her shoulder back into the compartment, walked into her with a great deal of force. The two stumbled and fell onto the ground in a heap.

"Oh gosh! I'm so sorry!" The girl yelped, hauling Alexa to her feet. She was red, something remarkable giving the darkness of her skin, and her hair was pulled back in a series of twists with a headband. And most surprising of all, she had a New York accent.

"No worries!" Alexa said, not able to help the smile on her face, she at least wasn't the only one not from England.

"Hey! You're American too, where are you from-also I am really sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going." She was giving Alexa an intense look that left the older girl a bit perturbed, but she ignored it.

"San Francisco, I just transfered to Hogwarts. What about you? I'm Alexa di Angelo, by the way." She offered her hand.

"New York City," the girl's eyes on her face seemed to be examining her deeply, "I'm Adeline Reynolds, it's nice to meet you, do you have a house yet?" Adeline spoke fast and Alexa liked her immediately.

"Slytherin," Alexa replied, "I was sorted over the summer."

"Gotcha," Adeline said, "I'm in Gryffindor. We'll probably have classes together," she smiled brightly.

"I hope so!" she said, "But we're blocking the corridor, I had better get going, it was so nice to meet you!" Riddle was starting to look a bit impatient, and there were people trying to slide behind her.

"You too!" Adeline chirped, and went on her way.

"I had forgotten we had another American student," Riddle commented as she fell into step beside him once more, "Are you alright?" he added.

"Oh, I'm fine," she said, shrugging, "No harm, no foul."

"There's Abraxas," he was suddenly no longer paying attention to her. He slid the door open, stepping in and apparently expecting her to follow.

She did, and ended up sitting down opposite Riddle next to a boy with with immaculately styled black hair, electrically blue eyes, and a crooked smile.

"I don't think we've met before," he said, before Riddle could even introduce her, "I'm Alphard Black." Black. Black was the name of the not so criminal criminal Sirius, Harry's godfather. And Bellatrix and Draco's mother Narcissa. She would have to check the book of pureblood families she had, but she didn't think he was anybody's father.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Alexa di Angelo," she shook his hand.

"I told you we had a new American," Abraxas rolled his eyes, "The fool thought I was making it up."

Alphard turned to Abraxas, eyes sparkling, "You didn't tell me she was this pretty, which really is the first thing you should have mentioned." She liked Alphard.

Abraxas scoffed, and Riddle was eyeing Alphard with barely restrained distaste.

"Pardon them," Riddle said, giving Abraxas a swift look, "Sometimes they forget their manners."

"And sometimes," Alphard leaned into her conspiratorially, "Riddle isn't a huge stick in the mud."

Alexa laughed, covering her mouth to stifle her giggles. It wouldn't due to offend him. Riddle pursed his lips and arched a brow, but remained silent.

"But," she said, "He's been extremely kind in helping me."

Alphard nodded, sighing, "I guess I'll give him a pass then."

"Thank you Tom," she said, giving him a smile, "I really do appreciate it."

He smiled in return, and it seemed almost sincere. She couldn't tell if she was just projecting onto him because she was so suspicious. She really didn't know him. She knew everything about him, but he himself was still a mystery.

"You're welcome," he replied.

"Have you been sorted yet?" Abraxas drawled.

"Yes, into Slytherin," she asserted.

"Oh good, it's really the only house worth being in," he looked out the window as he spoke.

Alphard rolled his eyes, "Don't listen to him, he's just pretentious because his whole family has been in Slytherin. Every house has it's merits. Slytherin just has the most." He winked. It was a shame Riddle didn't seem to like him. He reminded her of Blaise. All of a sudden the train began to move with a great jerk.

"Finally," Abraxas rolled his eyes, "I thought we'd never get going."

Tom didn't comment, but he looked out the window past Abraxas. She could just catch the edge of his expression. Of the excitement and yearning. She couldn't help the tiny bit of happiness that welled in her chest. It might be different than she knew, but Hogwarts was her home no matter what the year was.

Riddle pulled out a book, some history of transfiguration or other. Alphard and Abraxas chatted amiably with each other, and Alexa was left to look out the window. So far, so good. With any luck this would be her quietest ride on the Hogwarts Express. No Death Eaters, no Dementors, no Fred and George, no dramatic reenactments of Blaise's mother.

The compartment door was knocked on, and Riddle slid it open.

"Anything from the trolley dears?" the witch who stood in the entryway was not too much older than Alexa, with a shock of red hair and a shock of red lipstick.

Alphard grinned suddenly, looking at Alexa, "Have you ever had Bertie Botts Every Flavored Beans?" he asked. Alexa inwardly shrank.

"No," she lied, "They aren't carried in America." Oh gods she had had them before. Within the first twenty minutes of knowing Blaise he had convinced her to eat a whole handful.

"Excellent, I'll have a box of those and-no Abraxas put your money away this is my treat, we have a new Slytherin, I'm buying for the compartment. Riddle, you like licorice right? And Alexa, you look like an ginger newt gal if I ever saw one." he gave Alexa a sly grin, and went on to order way more sweets than she was convinced they could eat. The much younger trolley lady handed the candy over with a cheerful musing about how sick they were all going to be, and went on her merry way.

"I do not," Alexa said solemnly, "Like the sound of every flavor."

"You shouldn't," Riddle scoffed.

"Too scared?" Alphard said, opening the box and shaking it at her.

She sighed, "I don't trust you, Mr. Black," she said, taking the box, "But I do not turn away from a challenge." Accio Cherry, she thought as she reached in. A single red bean zipped into her fingers, and she grinned popping it into her mouth. "Cherry!" she exclaimed. Being over age had it's benefits.

Alphard groaned, "Damn. Alright, Abraxas your turn." He held it out to the blond.

"This is undignified," he sniffed, but took a bean anyways, promptly scrunching up his face. "Earwax," he said, ripping open a chocolate frog and putting it in his mouth before it could hop way, "But I got Newt Scamander," He shrugged, holding up the card.

"And now you Riddle," he held the box out and Alexa half expected him to murder Alphard right there.

But he just sighed in a long suffering sort of way and took a nondescript looking green candy. And gagged, his face screwing up so comically Alexa snickered right along with Alphard.

"Boogey," he coughed.

"And now it's your turn," Alexa turned to Alphard, "Or are you chicken?"  
"I," Alphard said, pulling out a handful, "Am Alphard of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. How dare you question my honor!" And he threw the whole handful back.

The regret that immediately passed over his face was truly something to behold, but he chewed resolutely, his face twisting. With great exaggeration he swallowed, and then waved a hand. "Pumpkin Pasty!" He gasped.

"Idiot," Abraxas laughed, and passed one over. Alphard shoved it in his mouth, slumping back against the seat.

"Who let me do that?" he asked bewildered.

"I didn't realize you needed supervision," Riddle's tone was icy but his face was amused.

"I'm impressed you didn't hurl," Alexa giggled. She nibbled on a liquorice wand, "Glad I missed out on that."

"I don't know how you didn't get something nasty on the first try," Riddle said, delicately picking up a cauldron cake, "I wasn't even convinced there were nice flavors."

"Beginners luck," she shrugged. They all nibbled at the candy Alphard had amassed, and Riddle turned back to his book and the other two chatted about nothing. She exhaled, leaning back in her seat. The train ride was barely half over. All Riddle had done so far was be charming and read.

"Hey! Verona just walked by!" Alphard exclaimed suddenly. Abraxas flushed red.

"Don't you dare!" he hissed.

Alphard gave a grin and leapt over Alexa, taking off after whoever Verona was, with Abraxas hot on his heels.

"Well that was exciting," Alexa murmured, sliding over to take Alphard's window seat.

"Eventually it just becomes annoying," Riddle said, not looking up from his book. She sighed, it was getting dark out. And Riddle was, surprisingly boring. It was hard to picture him as the darkest wizard of all time. She was almost disappointed.

And then suddenly there was a booming, deafening crash and the train came to a sudden hauls.

I'm a flash Alexa was on her feet, her wand raised in her hand as she faced the compartment door. So much for her quiet trip. She couldn't recall anything having happened when she checked the records. Immediately her mind flicked to Grindelwald but she brushed it off.

Riddle had flinched terribly when the bang sounded, and he could hear his suddenly ragged breath behind her. She glanced at him, and realized he was ashen and his hands, clenched into tight fists in his lap, were shaking.

"Are you alright?" she said, not looking back. Her voice was finally one she recognized, far from the light and almost flirty tone she had been using before. It was hard and strong with authority and admittedly a crisis was when she felt most like herself.

"Fine," was all he said.

"We're sorry for the delay, we will be pausing shortly for repairs. Our journey will begin as soon as possible, thank you." A smooth voice said over an intercom. Alexa exhaled, lowering her wand. She did not put it away as she sat back down across from Riddle. She didn't like that the train was stopped. She didn't like it at all. Riddle seemed to have gained his composer. She couldn't quite figure out what about the stop and crash that had set him off.

"Hopefully they get that fixed quickly," she said, her fingers drumming her wand. Riddle made a noise of agreement.

"Has this ever happened before?" The train had never stopped for such innocuous reasons in her time. She was trying to make conversation, while also scanning the outside of the train for life. There was nobody unexpected, just people, the crew she was assuming, walking around to where she supposed the engine was.

Riddle cleared his throat, "No," he rose, "But it is time for the prefects meeting, so I'm afraid I must leave you. I'll find you again on the platform?" He asked, pausing at the door.

She nodded, smiling, "Sounds good." He gave her a tight sort of expression that she was sure was meant to be kind and then left, the sliding door clicking shut behind him.

"Thank gods," she breathed, slouching down in her chair. There were still only the repairment outside, and nobody else for miles in any direction, including up. She didn't like that they were sitting just out in the open, perfectly defenseless. Her leg bounced up and down rhythmically, and she was anxious to be moving again. She might as well change. She slipped from the compartment, making her way through the hallway that was interspersed with whispering students. She knew exactly where the bathroom was, of course, and as she pulled her uniform from the locket and began to put it on with mechanical precision she couldn't help but smile. She had never thought she would wear it again. She had, she supposed, been cheated out of her last year of school. This would definitely make up for that and then some. She tucked the clothes she had been wearing away and made her way back down the corridor. And of course, because her luck would be reliable to the end, a tall skinny boy bumped into her and nearly sent her to the ground yet again.

"I'm so sorry!" He gasped. He was absurdly tall, very thin, with a shock of dark hair, and more freckles on his pale skin than she could even begin to count.

"You're fine," Alexa said, smoothing her skirt, "Don't worry about it," she flashed him a smile.

"I wasn't looking where I was going, and my bowtruckle-" he stopped, looking at her, "I mean, my toad ran off. I-I don't think I've ever seen you before." He held out his hand, "I'm Victor Scamander," he shook her hand rapidly, "And I'm so, so sorry." He talked fast, really babbling, and she wasn't even going to question why he was chasing after a bowtruckle of all things.

"Alexa di Angelo," she replied, "I'm just transferring in from America, that's probably why you've never seen me."

"Oh, I'm glad!" He paused, "Not that you're transferring, I mean," he shook his head, "It's wonderful that you are, Hogwarts is lovely, but if you had been in my classes for years it would have been awkward that I had just introduced myself to you."

Alexa laughed, "A bit yeah." Just then, the train started moving, much to her relief.

"Oh! They got it fixed-"

"Will the owner of the niffler please come to the front of the train, will the owner of the niffler please come to the front of the train."

Victor groaned, "I knew I felt something moving in my trunk, the blasted thing always tries to sneak where it shouldn't. It was nice to meet you," he smiled, "I need to see a man about a niffler." And with that he bustled off, and Alexa was left standing there quite amused. Scamander, the name sounded so familiar. Newt Scamander! Abraxas got his chocolate frog card, he wrote one of their textbooks. Victor must be related. It would probably explain the niffler.

The rest of the ride was mostly quiet. Alphard and Abraxas returned eventually, the latter of the two red faced and looking supremely annoyed. They chatted and the three of them nibbled through a good portion of the candy. She didn't see Riddle until the carriages were in sight, although Alphard and Abraxas walked with her. He was talking to two hulking boys that reminded her of Crabbe and Goyle far more than she liked. He dismissed them with a nod, and they went on their way. He raised a hand in greeting when Alexa approached, and the thestrals pulling the carriage both turned to look at her. Riddle glanced at them, an eyebrow raised, but said nothing. The thestrals, however, were not pleased with the lack of attention she was giving them, and just as Abraxas was climbing in they turned and snorted at her, one of them nuzzling into her hair and flipping it up. Abraxas cried out, and fell in a heap at the bottom of the carriage.

"Okay," she giggled, scratching it's bony snout, "Are you happy now?" Thestrals, as far as she knew, were the only animals who liked her. Everything else seemed to avoid her like the plague.

"You can see them?" Riddle asked curiously, standing a short distance away.

"Yeah," she said, running her hand along its flank. It quivered it's leathery wings, shaking it's head much like any normal horse would do. She could not remember a time when she could not see them. Perhaps, because of her father, she had always been able to see them, or perhaps she had seen her mother die when she was a child. She could not remember.

"So can I," Riddle's response was quiet, and his eyes were suddenly somewhere far away. And then he shook his head, "They're going to leave soon." She followed him into the carriage, sitting next to him. It was still far too close to him for her liking. He was far more normal than she had expected. Nothing seemed off about him. The only indication was how tightly he seemed to control the Slytherin house. Perhaps except for Alphard, but he might only tolerate Alphards 'misbehavior' because of how high ranking the Blacks were in this time. There must be more of them somewhere. Maybe they were more under his control. She would have to wait to find out. She was about to say something when the castle came into view, and her breath caught in her throat.

Gods it was whole.

It was beautiful, all the windows lit up like christmas lights, it's towers and parapets majestic even from this distance. She felt like a first year again. She was home. She was always home at Hogwarts.

"I told you it was beautiful," Riddle said, looking at the castle as well. His face mirrored hers in it's adoration.

"I'm not ready for the homework," Abraxas complained.

Alphard snorted, "You just copy off me anyways." Abraxas swatted him, rolling his eyes.

"It's amazing," she agreed, looking at Riddle.

"How are you already sorted if you've never been here before?" Alphard asked.

"Headmaster Dippet brought the sorting head to the Leaky Cauldron, where I was staying for most of the summer," she answered easily.

"The Leaky Cauldron, why were you staying there, where were your parents?" Abraxas's nose was wrinkled as he spoke. Alphard and Riddle gave Abraxas a reproachful look, complete with a hard elbow from the former. Abraxas looked quite befuddled at the treatment he had just received.

"They passed away. That's why I'm here now." Was all Alexa said. Abraxas turned pink.

"Sorry," he muttered.

Alexa shrugged, turning back to the castle. She could feel Riddle's eyes boring into her, but she ignored it. The reached the castle in short time, dismounting with a final pat of the thestral.

They were shepherded through the entryway, and into the Great Hall. Even after all this time, it took her breath away. The sky was perfectly clear, and the stars twinkling above her. The candles gave everything a warm, rosy glow. But looking around it was like looking at her own memories through somebody else's glasses, the place was familiar, but in the sea of faces she recognized no one.

"This is our table," Alphard said, guiding her to the Slytherin table. She sat between him and Riddle, and there was a flurry of introductions from those around her. Apparently the news of a new student had traveled quickly through the train. There were several more Blacks, Walburga, Cygnus, and Orion. There was an Eleanor Parkinson, whose face was just as pug-like as Pansy. The two hulking boys were, as it turned out, Crabbe and Goyle, but both were charming and intelligent it seemed, much unlike their modern counterparts. There were more than she could ever hope to remember and they lasted all the way through the sorting which featured even more names she recognized. It was the strangest sense of deja vu she had ever experienced. Dippet's speech was far more dull than any of Dumbledore's had ever been, as it involved no warnings of imminent death nor the word "blubber."

But the feast was as incredible as always, and observing the people around her it was easy to pick out a pecking order. Riddle was top dog in his year, and indeed it seemed for the year below him. Any younger and the kids didn't really seem to be aware of his existence. Any higher and there were older boys from older families who ruled the roost. Among the girls, Amelia Greengrass seemed to be in charge, although she was quite lovely, and not at all unpleasant.

As they left the Great Hall, Amelia was the one who came up to her.

"Hi," she said, "You're Alexa right?"

Alexa smiled, "Yes, I think we were introduced early, you're Amelia Greengrass?"

"That's right," the girl's smile was infectious, "I'm the female prefect for our year, and I just wanted to let you know that we're so happy you're here and if you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask!"

Amelia's status, it seemed, was not from anything aside from being the group's mother.

"Thank you so much," Alexa sincerely responded, "Everyone has been so kind, I feel very welcomed."

"I'm glad!" Amelia said, "Let me know what your class schedule is when you get it, and I'll try to see if there's anybody with the same one, so you don't get lost. The castle can be pretty confusing. Also! Make sure you don't forget the password, or else you won't be able to get into the common room. It's a bit of a harsh tradition, but it's forbidden for another student to help you in, so you have to remember." Amelia kept talking, giving Alexa a surprisingly solid history lesson of Hogwarts and the Slytherin house the whole way to the dungeon.

They stepped into the common room together, and Alexa couldn't help but feel safe. Of course, then Riddle had to come over and ruin it, interrupting Amelia's pleasant chatter.

"I see you've met our other prefect," he said cooly.

Amelia's gaze hardened, "Riddle," she greeted. The tension rose in the air around them. Alexa had to admit, she only liked Amelia more.

"Are you settled, Alexa?" Riddle asked, turning to her.

"Yes, thank you for your help," she replied.

Riddle nodded, a small smile on his lips, "It was my pleasure." He gave Amelia a curt look, "We have another meeting on Saturday to discuss patrol schedules," he informed her.

"Yes," she said dryly, "I was at the meeting today, I'm aware."

"Goodnight," he said, once more turning to Alexa. And then he turned and went down the stairs to the boys' dormitory.

"He's a right tosser," Amelia snorted, "Pretentious as they come."

Alexa chuckled, following her to the girls' dormitory, "I wouldn't have guessed," her tone was dry.

Amelia giggled, "Have you met all the girls in our year?" she asked, as they entered into the fifth year's room.

"Everyone!" she yelled. The room of at least twenty girls turned to look at her. Alexa was taken aback. There were fewer than half that number in her own time. She supposed, grimly thinking, that many of these girl's children would be killed in the wizarding wars to come.

"This is Alexa di Angelo, she's our new student, and I expect all of you to make her feel welcome." Alexa stood unflinching under the scrutiny of the group, as Amelia introduced them all in turn. Walburga she recognized, as well as Parkinson, and then there were twins with the surname Crabbe, and most surprisingly, a Zabini who looked startlingly like Blaise. There were many more, and she was sure she would come to learn their names in time. But for now, she was admittedly exhausted, and everyone was getting ready for bed, and she was more than inclined to join them.

Her bed was between Amelia's and Effie Crabbe, and in this strange Hogwarts that seemed more peaceful than she had ever known, she slept soundly.


End file.
